#Like. He just wanted to meet them ! genuinely what a weirdo ! (affectionate)

[mobblespsycho100]

manipulative whore eyes <33 hes so tism

[ID: A panel from the Dungeon Meshi Manga, chapter 35. Kabru introduces himself to Laios while smiling. Laios glances at him and Toshiro is there too. Kabru says, "Its good to meet you... You're Laios, arent you? My name is Kabru."

Hes saur sillay

[ruvviks]

and last one is a bonus up to u. 🖋️ + thiago (i'm squeezing all the info out of you) or nikita, or even both if you want 🫶

oc asks!

nikita is the drummer of urban dynamite! he's one of the earlier members and a very important one at that, his perfect intuition and feel for the music they play making him very good at improvising and playing in on what the others are doing which greatly improves the music they make in general >:^)

he moved to the nusa at age 18 to escape his homophobic household and tried to get into acting at first, which went pretty well for him! he landed a job in a tv show with rowdy and lalo and even let lalo move in with him at some point. the two bonded over being in a foreign country and having no one to rely on anymore and nikita even ended up falling in love with his best friend for a while, but they never got together during this time despite their characters in the tv show they played in getting together

the show ended rather abruptly because lalo was getting himself into trouble with authorities a lot. this also caused him and nikita to lose contact with each other because lalo was isolating himself from all his friends and it upset nikita greatly, but he also understood. he ended up focusing on some more smaller acting jobs and eventually joined urban dynamite when rowdy invited him :)

nikita is a bit quiet but once he's talking he's very direct and blunt and isn't scared of what people will think of him. now that lalo is also part of the band, nikita's feelings for him are resurfacing a bit. well. a lot actually. he wants to kiss him so bad

THIAGO. my boyfriend thiago. freak on the loose in the desert. i will keep describing him like that i have to or i'll die it's so funny to me

thiago used to run with a nomad family and he genuinely loved it there so much. being on the move all the time was good for him, he liked the change, he liked the freedom, but he was also very unpredictable in the sense of getting distracted a lot and sometimes just going on his own gigs without telling anyone and other people would get so worried about him. but talking to him about it didn't help and it caused a lot of tension in the family which eventually caused thiago to just get up and leave forever. he didn't want to hurt them anymore :(

and ever since he's just been alone basically. lives in his car (haven't decided what kind yet but it's one of those nomad cars and it's heavily customized it's his BABY. that's his home right there he loves that car so much) with his cat ravioli who's about as stupid as he is. well. no ravioli is smarter than him actually. hyperactive little beast though he Will claw your face open (affectionately)

thiago spends most of his days riding around the badlands doing gigs for fixers or doing shady businesses with gangs. he often stops at garages or motels for a while to do some bar shifts there or fix up some cars for people to get some extra eddies and he's perfectly fine living all by himself. or so he keeps telling himself

at the same time, he keeps a very close eye on activity in the area; watching other nomad families as security measure. or so he tells himself. he secretly really just wants to be part of something again, wants to feel like he belongs somewhere but going to night city would only make him worse and crawling back to his own family would kill him a thousand times dead on the floor so he keeps telling himself he's FINE when really he's NOT

thiago is a bit of a distant man when you first meet him and he has no filter he will say Anything that comes to mind and only slightly regrets it afterwards. he's a big flirt. he's big smart but also big stupid at the same time. he HAS eaten cat food on several occasions and he WILL do it again. bit of a freak bit of a weirdo. loves to fuck. hasn't fucked in a while and you can tell. very deeply longs for meaningful connections with people but would rather die than admit it. loyal to a fault which is both a good and a bad thing because it's very easy for others to just use him for whatever. still VERY unpredictable though. he just needs to get adhd meds and that would solve like most of the problem tbh

[wonderlandleighleigh]

pure midgelenny bliss? like just something calm idk. maybe set in a chaotic/loud environment but the two of them are existing in their little midgelenny bubble

She promised Joel a set at the Button Club, so he meets her there, dropping his things off at home before heading out, and getting there just in time to see her set.

Lenny snags a table in the back, and she must have spotted him before her smile widens as she talks, even though her subject matter doesn't change.

As she wraps up, he quietly orders her a martini, and when she gets off stage, and back to his table, it's waiting for her.

Midge settles into his lap, kissing him eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck, and he lets his eyes drift shut. He's been thinking about her lips since the minute his plane left the tarmac for his tour, and now that he's back, he's just not interested in anything else.

"How'd it go?" she asks, stroking his jaw gently.

"Good," he nods. "Solid tour. No arrests, no drugs. Well. A little pot. That doesn't count."

Midge smiles and kisses his temple tenderly, closing her eyes briefly, breathing in the scent of hair product and his aftershave. "I missed you."

He takes a breath and it feels like his shoulders relax for the first time. "I missed you too. Good set."

"Why thank you," she beams, before reaching out for her drink and taking a sip. "You know what I used to drink in college?"

"Hm?" he asks, gazing up at her as he sips his scotch.

"Amaretto sours," she tells him.

"Very sweet," Lenny comments. "But then again, you are sweet, so that's not exactly shocking. And as an added bonus, they will still get you drunk."

Midge laughs softly and rests her head against his, holding him tighter, and his arms wrap around her waist gently, rubbing her side affectionately.

"I promised Joel I'd stick around for a little bit for the band," she says. "I hope you don't mind."

Lenny shrugs. "I still get to spend time with you. We'll have another drink and we'll stumble home eventually."

Midge pecks his lips but pulls away when Joel wanders over. She grins sheepishly. "Hi, Joel. Sorry. He's been on tour all month."

"I get it," he says, trying not to be awkward. "Refill on the drinks?"

"Yes, please," Lenny says. "Another scotch for me, and..." he grins at Midge playfully. "What do you say? You wanna give that amaretto sour another chance?"

Midge laughs. "Why not?"

Joel wrinkles his nose. "Seriously? You're drinkin' those again?"

"It's just a drink, Joel," Midge shrugs. "I was telling Lenny I used to drink them in college, and we were kidding around about it. If you're that offended, I'll stick with the martinis."

Lenny frowns then. "You should get whatever drink you'd like."

"She wants a martini," Joel says.

"So you say," Lenny tells him. "But you didn't actually ask her."

Both men look to her, and she sits up a little straighter, squaring her shoulders.

"Strawberry daiquiri."

Lenny gives a short, genuine laugh as he buries his face in the crook of her shoulder, still laughing.

Joel rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Comin' up, you weirdos."

"One time?" Midge says into Lenny's hair as he keeps laughing. "That man married me. I don't know what he was thinking. He must have been hit in the head one too many times."

Lenny lifts his head, gazing at her adoringly. "Yes, that has to be it."

[ilcaeryx]

Cascade [Gojo Satoru/Reader]

Summary: Satoru picks you up after a wild night in Tokyo’s party districts. While he’s dying to be more than your close friend, he won’t act until he’s certain you want him, too.

Tags: Gojo Satoru/Reader, Cute, Fluff, Humor, Slight angst, Nightlife, Pining, Pre-relationship

Word Count: Almost 2k

Author’s Note: Feels good to complete something. I listened to The Rose’s cover of ILYSB while writing this.

---

Gojo Satoru’s 1AM drive to one of Tokyo’s nightlife district was strictly for serious business. While he would fit into the crowd of youthful people enjoying the neon stinging their eyes and body contact with at least four strangers at all times, he had zero intentions on partying. Indeed, his sole mission was to retrieve a package – that package being you.

Lulled into rumination by the car engines constant humming, Satoru pondered about your occupation of his mind. Even though his days were busy, he would associate the concept of you with quite literally anything. Bickering with the higher ups? He could envision himself cranking up the drama as he told you the story, smiling smugly inwards at you cooking him comfort food to soothe ‘his stressful day’. Whenever something hilarious or crazy happened, he would automatically think ‘I’ll tell Y/N this later’. One would expect it would annoy him but it was not the case; Satoru was entertained by his daily fantasies, very much enthralled by the walking-on-clouds-feeling his body would produce during his mental escapades. If one Y/N thought equalled one endorphin molecule, he was experiencing a cascade.

His first thought after awakening every morning was your face between his palms, his fingers frigid against your temples. If things between you two ever developed, one day your face would be his first experience that day, every day for the rest of his life. Right now, Satoru would pin your relationship as close friends. As much as he would overinterpret your behaviour towards him, he was quite certain you were not interested in discovering whatever else could unfold between the two of you. Not yet, his positive inner self protested. Maybe never, his negative inner self retorted.

Despite his conflicting emotions, he gathered himself up into a presentable version of himself while he walked to the nightclub your friend had mentioned. Your safety was his number one priority right now, regardless if you were into him romantically or not.

~~~

“Text me when you’re home!” you yelled over the pulsating music, bidding your friend farewell by blowing her a kiss. In a dramatic motion, she caught the invisible kiss in her palm and clutched it against her chest.

“I will! Stay safe, bitch!” she screeched back before submerging into the human current outside the club, her cursed energy swashing to and fro like a solar flare.

Even though his evening had been a cozy movie-night in his bedroom, Satoru’s limbs felt heavy from looking at you. With your shoulders drooping and hands massaging your left thigh, you were finally punished from dancing non-stop all evening. Indeed, your hair clung to your forehead, neck and upper arms, intermingling with the shining perspiration on your skin. Nevertheless, you seemed to relish in whatever banger was playing inside as you were gently swaying side to side.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you said, pre-emptively shushing him with your index finger in the air. “But I’ll take a shower once I’m home.”

“I was actually thinking that I should’ve brought a towel, considering that your sweat’ll soak the car seat,” he said and tucked some slick strands away from your face. Your mortified look cracked him up. “It’s fine, I’ll lend you my jacket.”

“Your expensive-ass jacket? Thanks, I’d rather freeze to death.”

He rolled back his shoulders as he slid his jacked halfway down his back, hands still in his pockets. A little disappointment tinged his tongue. “Are you sure? I warmed it up just for you.”

“Yeah, stop stripping and let’s get the hell out of here.” You smacked his back with an open hand, pushing him onwards. “God, I can’t wait until we get home. I’m so tired. Are we going to your place?”

Let’s not read into anything, Satoru thought. ‘Anything’ meant both your off-hand comment about his place and the fact that your hand remained steady on his back even after you two joined the crowd. Physical closeness wasn’t anything new between you but the context provided another layer of complexity to read into. Suddenly, being the completely sober adult in charge seemed like too heavy a responsibility for him...

Without meaning to, his back tensed up. “No, you weirdo. You can sleep off the alcohol in your own bed.”

You either weren’t bothered by his tenseness or you didn’t notice, as you shifted your hand around his waist. You carefully leaned against his arm. “Sounds boring. Don’t you want to talk all night?”

Like always, your presence burned his arm, enough that he was unable to feel the strangers he bumped into on his other side. This was a sign, right? Or were you flirting as a friend? In the past, he had people confess their ‘love’ for him and apparently they thought his teasing and touching meant he fancied them. Being extremely lovable wasn’t easy, especially not when any platonic affection could be re-constructed as romantic by the other part. You, too, were extremely lovable and affectionate… Had he been in your shoes, this proximity wouldn’t have had any romantic subtext. But unlike him, you had a good personality… This could be the night you two finally spoke about whatever was between you two.

Or the night where you lose a friend because of your stupidity, his negativity brought up.

It had a point. Yeah, you were a good person and a terrific friend – he’d be an idiot if he lost you. Compared to his co-workers and allies, you were awfully soft; he liked how you doted on him, even when he was a pain in the ass. If you rejected him now, your dynamic wouldn’t be the same and his life would be much harder for it.

“We can talk later today,” he said, his arm automatically shooting out to stop an accidental elbow-right-into-your-chest-accident. He settled his arm around your shoulder after giving the guy the evil guy through his glasses. Watch your limbs, man.!

“That was close,” you said, sighing. “Thank you, Satoru! I’m sorry about having to call you out this late, by the way. Did I wake up you?”

He both cursed and rejoiced on the inside now that you changed subject. “Couldn’t be helped that your friend had an emergency. Next time, try to wake me up later for an early breakfast instead.”

“Next time, you’re coming with us.”

His lips faltered slightly, smile not feeling as genuine. He adjusted the collar on his jacket to hide it. “To the nightclub?”

Your index finger jabbed into his side accusingly. “Anywhere! Last time we hung out was… uh…”

This was the first time in a few weeks you two had spoken in person by yourselves. As you both mostly met together with your friends, you tended to invite him whenever the gang planned something. He admitted to himself that he often declined because he only wanted your company, but you never offered to join him instead. Whenever he invited you out, you’d be perfectly alright with hanging out just the two of you, though.

“Two weeks ago?” He squinted into the lights of an incoming car. “It’s because of work but-“

“I’m not a hikikomori, you bastard – I’ve got a job too, but I’ll make time for you, you know?”

You’d make time for anyone, Satoru thought, somewhat discouraged.

The crowd thinned out as you entered the parking lot, though the place was jam-packed with cars. Both of you remained quiet as you passed by couples on the way to Satoru’s car. When you detached yourself from his side, he rustled your hair. You stood on your tippy-toes to return the favour, messing up his hair worse than he did yours. He liked seeing you struggle to reach his head, so he didn’t mind.

“I missed you, scarecrow,” you said, pinching his cheek. He elongated his smile to feel one knuckle touch his lips. “What is the gremlin and scarecrow duo without the scarecrow?”

~~~

Slumped against the window, you were peaceful the entire ride home. Every so often, Satoru would catch a glimpse of your sleepy face and his heart would clam up. He made the right decision in picking you up, even though he aged weeks in those twenty minutes you two had spoken. Your interactions followed a pattern: he’d look forward to meeting you, creating fantasies and expectations of what could be; when you were with him, he would attempt not to ruin your current friendship to the point where he’d feel sick; and whenever you two parted, he’d overindulge in his memories. In two days, he’d be prepared to undergo this rollercoaster once again.

He drove into your street and called your name.

You immediately woke up and looked outside. “What time is it?”

“Almost 2AM…” he exhaled deeply, hands falling into his lap. He still had to drive home, so he’d be in bed in 30 minutes.

“Everything hurts,” you said, bending forward to readjust your high heels. “My legs are killing me… I won’t be able to walk tomorrow. I’m not sure I can walk now.”

He understood what the lilting tone at the end of your sentence meant and with great effort he stepped out of the car. Your giddiness as he opened the car-door on your side was intoxicating, as was the feeling of seeing you stretch your arms towards his neck. He cradled one arm below your thighs and one behind your back.

“Watch your head,” you chided softly into his ear, covering the top of his head as he carried you out of the car.

“Gimme keys.” Satoru leaned slightly backwards to account for your weight as you handed him the key to your apartment. With your bare arms against his neck, he would be surprised if you didn’t notice how his pulse rose.

Your apartment door opened and he stepped into darkness, shutting it behind his back.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled, heading for your bedroom with his shoes on. Your teeny apartment had a teeny bedroom with a single sized bed.

“Say, Satoru,” you said, your cheek pressed below his ear, “are you sure you don’t want to stay and talk?”

“Just go to sleep, Y/N.” Satoru leaned over your bed to carefully lay you down. Your grip on his neck loosened and he thought you’d comply until you kissed his neck, his soul almost as soft as your lips.

“What about now?” you asked and released your arms, falling onto your bed. Your hair spilled around you, a gloria around your tired face. “I’ll let you sleep in my bed, if you want to.”

Honestly, he wanted this. Everything he’d thought of earlier this night could become true if he gave in, which was insane enough to send his head swimming. He’d endure this cramped bed for you, even with his feet being colder than hell and his back aching from sleeping on his side. Gojo Satoru was more than ready.

However, he did not want this to backfire. What if you were simply too horny, lonely, exhausted or intoxicated to consider the consequences right now?

You rolled towards the wall, leaning on your side. Your eyelids fluttered weakly, your exhaustion almost overtaking your body and yet you found enough strength to pat the empty space beside you. “See, there’s space. I’ll always leave space for you.”

Ah, fuck it.

Satoru’s personality was bad; his attitude was self-indulgent; his morality was concrete grey; and his discipline when it came to you near non-existent. If you awoke tomorrow and found that you had fallen asleep with the love of your life – then great, you were both on the same page. If he had completely misunderstood your intentions, he would absolutely bullshit his way out of trouble, like he always did. Whatever, everything’d be alright someday.

---

If you enjoyed this, give me a like/follow/reblog/comment/scream into the void. I hope everyone had a good New Year and let’s hope that 2021 is kind.

Started this 22/11/2020, finished 10/01/2021.

[theshy1sout]

Inseparable - Chapter 17

Tags: Broppy, Slow Burn Fluff, Trolls Mythology Au, Not rated

Ao3 is here

Notes: I’m not good at... “rating”. This chapter is slighly more mature than previous

____________________________________________

- Branch! Look!

- That's birds.

- They are singing!

- Like always at sunrise.

- No! I mean, yes, but look! They are dancing!

Branch glances at the tree Poppy is pointing at. The scream of those two colorful parrots is hearable enough to find them easily between birk's leaves. Indeed, they do something being able to call "dancing". They are stepping all across the limb, jumping and bouncing up and down, all together in sync, holding each other's beaks. They look like they have great fun. The god of the Night has never seen the critters being so happy.

- Aren't they the cutest birds? - Poppy grabs the Staff tightly with all of her excitement.

- Yeah - The god nods and in the very next moment he feels a hand pulling sharply his arm, forcing him to face pink sparkling cheeks.

- Let's dance! - The goddess squeals purely. She starts moving with a non-existing beat. 

Branch can't stop his face from smiling widely at the pure, innocent Poppy's energy. He chuckles slightly, before he prevents this 'party' from getting started.

- Sweetie, there's no music to play...

- The birds are singing! - She beams, not stopping dancing. - That's enough for me.

The god crosses his arms on his chest and raises his eyebrow, giving the goddess a sight of disapproval. But Poppy can't take him seriously if he keeps smiling.

- Come on, kitty - She smirks playfully. - Show me your wild moves!

He shakes his head disapprovingly, smiling even wider.

- This 'song' is not even that lively - He notices at loud. - It's much calmer, my Sunshine.

She stops, raising her eyebrow with a genuine smirk. She takes his comment as a "pet-names" war challenge to a duel. She puts her hand on her hip.

- So what you wanna do, honey-bunny? - The goddess lifts her chin airily, looking down her nose at him.

But he has way different things in his mind. He drops his smile, starting pondering. His eyes shine as always when he is deep into his thoughts. One glance at parrots, one glance at the Staff, one glance at her. Poppy frowns.

- What are you thinking about? - She asks impatiently, jabbing the Staff at the ground with a quiet 'bonk'.

His only answer is shyly stepping a bit closer. Then he looks at the parrot once again.

- They are swinging together - Branch explains slowly, smiling slightly at her eyes filled with curiosity. - They are holding each other's beaks.

- Oh - Poppy beams immediately with brand-new enthusiasm. - So we should hold hands!

And at the very same moment, she grabs his hand with her free one and starts dancing again. But Branch's hand doesn't listen to her, forcing her to slow down along with the god's giggle in the background.

- No, sweetie, calm down - He chuckles. He grabs her other arm carefully, avoiding touching the Staff. His voice is so warm, sweet and smiling. - I told you, it's not that lively. It's calm, it's slow. Listen...

The goddess heaves an impatient sigh but stops and listens. The birds' song is so chaotic, ringing loudly in the whole birk forest with many melodies from many different species of feathered critters. But Branch is right, there is something calming in its sound. Poppy looks down, focusing on listening. The soft tones make her heartbeat quiet, make her stop thinking and jumping. She feels it. She feels its calmness.

- What if... - Branch starts quietly. - ... we are holding hands... - He carefully lays his hand on the top of her little hand clenched tightly on the Staff. - ...and hugging... - With those words he embraces her waist with his other hand and pulls her a bit closer. Her arm lands on his. - ...And dancing. - Their eyes meet. Poppy feels charmed by his wide tender smile and adoring eyes, so close that she can't see anything else but its mesmerising azure. - Dancing by swinging. - Branch continues, leading her to swing gently. His quiet, low voice sounds so warmly and musically as if he already starts humming. - Dancing by swinging... Swinging... Slowly... Unhurriedly... In the music of the sunrise...

The goddess smiles affectionately, still can not take her eyes off his. She lets him lead. He keeps them swinging gently, jamming out to the song he hums softly. Soon he gets his steps a bit faster, starting spinning around the woods. It’s calm, pleasant. A different kind of fun that charms her every time the god reveals this side of him. She can do nothing but gazing at him like enchanted.

- What are you humming? - She asks quietly, with a light shy smile.

- I don't know - Branch admits, shrugging slightly his shoulders. - I'm improvising.

- Could you sing?

The god blinks, surprised.

- Sing what? - He frowns a bit.

- Words - The goddess smiles wider. She moves her hand from his arm to his chest and touches his heart. - From your heart.

Branch smiles awkwardly, glancing away. He hesitates for a while.

- Only if you join me...

- Okay - She nods. - After a minute or two...

The god blows a raspberry, making her chuckle. He bites his lips, looking down, still leading them to swing gently with the forest music. After a calm while of pleasant and sound peace, Branch gets up his head and, taking a deep breath, meeting her eyes, he starts singing with low melody voice, shaking deep voice, he starts singing from his heart, and every word resonates with his feelings:

You're in my arms

And all the world is calm

The music playing on for only two

So close together 

And when I'm with you 

So close to feeling alive

His warm hand on her back pushes her a bit closer to him, when he starts spinning faster, smiling during singing: 

A life goes by

Romantic dreams will stop

So I bid mine goodbye

And never knew

So close was waiting

Waiting here with you

And now, forever, I know

All that I wanted to hold you

So close

Branch spins beamishly with her, smiling so wide. He takes a breath staring deep into her eyes. His heart beats fast from the joy and effort of singing and dancing at once.

- You promised you would join - He tells her off playingly.

- In a moment - She purrs delightedly, raising her chin and looking at him mischievously. - You sing so... lovely.

The god frowns smiling. Poppy flutters her eyelashes at him, smirking. After a deep breath she sings clear, sound, and loud, giving the god of the Night another soft smile:

So close to reaching

That famous happy end

Almost believing

This one's not pretend

Now you're beside me

And look how far we've come

Branch blinks with his eyes open wide, impressed by her performance. She showed the best of her voice, but she hasn't finished yet. She moves even closer to him. Their noses almost touch.  Her last words slowly and tenderly come from her lips.

So far

We are

So close...

The god takes a deep long blissful sigh, caressing gently her back. They look into each other's eyes for so long now, but he still has not enough of her look.

- You have such an amazing voice - He whispers dreamily.

- I love your voice, too 

They share another sweet smile, slowing down their steps. For a one long moment they are just swinging gently to the great endless birds' song above them. It reminds Poppy of something.

- The birds have no arms - She notices out of nowhere, making Branch giggles. - They can't hold each other.

- So? - He frowns at her, amused.

- Their beaks are more like our noses - She points out. - So, as we tried to pretend their dance in the first place, we should do this.

And without any more warnings, she strokes his nose by hers, closing her eyes. He chuckles heartily, doing the same.

- It's cute - He admits, getting his head a bit back to look at her again. - But I don't think beaks are their noses.

Poppy purses her lips discontentedly.

- So what do you table, wise guy?

Branch chuckles slightly. His smile fades slowly while he's hesitating. He peeks down in silence. But finally, he decides to try. At least Poppy will call him a silly weirdo.

His hand reaches to her chin and lifts it a bit. He gets down and gently presses his mouth against her.

He thought it would be a quick peck. Just a try. And Poppy would laugh, calling him at the worst ‘disgusting’ and he would apologize for a bad joke and they would keep dancing...

But... Her lips... Oh, gods... They are much softer than he expected. So silken, so supple... And touching them with his sensitive mouth is so delightful. Branch feels a heat wave and that is his whole world for a moment.

He moves away unwillingly. He wants to come back, back to her lips, tasting them more and more till it's the only feeling he knows... But he stops himself. He doesn't want to force anything on Poppy. He still doesn't know what she thinks about it...

He raises his sight. The goddess's eyes, half-opened with bliss, are looking down, looking down he knows where, he feels where, and now he knows she likes it, and now he can't stop himself from looking down...

Their lips meet again. The sweetest meeting they've experienced. The sweet taste of soft, warm, sensitive mouth. Their lips start dancing, slow-dancing, moving tenderly, unhurriedly, passionately, slowly, so slowly, tasting every second... 

They've never been that close. Branch's hand strokes along Poppy's spine, reaching her head, her silken hair, sinking deep into them, caressing her delicate head skin. And his other hand lands on her back, pulls her closer, closer, closer, until her chest is pressed tightly to his, until he feels her heartbeat as his. And Poppy's little warm hands, oh her loving touch on his shoulders, fondles his neck, waking up chill on his back and flames in his stomach, making his mind dizzy. And her other arm embraces his head, dug deep into his hair, clinched into them, stroking him affectionately. Oh, so much touch, so much closeness, so much passion, so much warmth. He even doesn't notice he is lifting her and she's on her toes, standing on his feet, climbing to his face...

He puts her down, he pushes her away, but only to look at the delight on her face, the bliss on her lips, the mess of her hair, the relishable rapture sparkling in her eyes. His heart is rushing, his body is burning, his mind is spinning. And Poppy, with her half-opened mouth, half-opened eyelids, red cheeks, her hair everywhere... She's never looked so appealingly gorgeous.

Branch wants to taste her more, but he feels like he starts losing control. He’s panting, he’s boiling, but he slows it down, cams it down, gets slower, takes the control back. He blinks, viewing her pink face, watching every detail. Oh, he loves that woman so much. And she is endlessly beautiful. Everything in her is so beautiful. His mouth slowly touches her beautiful strawberry nose, so round and smooth. He gets a bit up, to her forehead, and presses his lips there, with all of the adoration he has for her clever, bright mind. He hears her deep, shaking sigh. He comes to her soft, rosy cheek, sparkling with hundred tiny freckles. They amaze him so many times. He presses tenderly his mouth on it, then a second time and third, to taste all of her freckles. Poppy gets weak and soft in his arms, almost as if only his embrace keeps her standing. Branch whispers lovingly her name like a magic charm, like a sweet song, but she doesn’t answer. She just opens her eyes and shows him her deep pink eyes, the reflection of her elated soul. The god grabs the strands of her hair and puts it behind her ear, caressing it affectionately. His fingers slide down from the top of her ear, through the jawline, to her lips. He touches them, caresses, explores from one corner to the other, gazing at them adoringly. Finally, he leans closer and touches them with his lips again, exploding inwardly with the bliss.

- I love you endlessly - He whispers to her mouth, and her only answer is a long shaking sigh. 

Poppy cuddles tighter to him, hiding her face into his neck. She nestles there, whispering soft "I love you so much...". He strokes her hair with his eyes closed, smiling gently. They've never been so close before. It is almost like a brand new side of happiness. The brand new flavor of love. His chest is calmly burning, his heart is rushing happily. He has to say he is so tired of it, so full, filled with that feeling like a vase, but also he is so flushed with pleasure.

There is nothing like Poppy in the entire universe.

But then, suddenly, the goddess grabs his shirt and hair much tighter, almost painfully. She freezes in his arms, her breath almost stops. Branch frowns slowly, waiting for her to say something.

- Poppy? - He asks shyly, nestling his nose into her hair. He hears her gulping quietly, but she still doesn't answer. The Silence is unbearably deep.

And it is the moment he realizes something around is wrong. He looks at two of his hands on Poppy. He feels two of her hands on him. Two. The sky is blank. The forest is so quiet. Oh my goodness...

- Branch... - She groans weakly. He already knows what she's going to say, but he doesn't interrupt her. He squeezes her slightly tighter when she speaks it out loud. - The Staff... I dropped It.

The Silence around is so unbearable.

What to say. What to do. He is too scared to let her go. They are doomed. They are doomed, oh, they are so doomed...

Poppy carefully pushes him away. She shows him her frightened eyes. She also is too scared to look for the Staff. What if it's broken... It is for sure broken. There is no way it isn't broken.

- Maybe it isn't broken - Branch tells her, hopelessly. 

It is not far. In the grass. It is not far at all. The long wide crack is so visible. The Gold Sphere doesn't shine. Poppy touches It, but It doesn't react. She lifts It slowly. She gazes at It with tears in her eyes.

The loud rumble booms out. The sudden rain makes them both wet. The goddess of the Day and the god of the Night stare speechlessly at the long, grey limb with the dull ball on the top in little pink hands. 

Birds are not singing anymore...

____________________

Index

[lamiaward]

What if we were both high ranking military officers who kissed and were both girls?

I wanted to write some things for pride month and I had this vague idea of Olivier flirting with Riza to piss off Roy mostly but also genuinely liking the woman and I definitely ship Olivier with Riza so Oops? But also I definitely ship Roy and Riza as well so there’s also some of that (also Riza is definitely bi and in love with Roy but she can at the very least appreciate how attractive and everything Olivier is and probably admires her as well).  Anyways that all turned into whatever this fic is lol.

I haven’t read the manga in a while so some parts might not be canon compliant but I did try to look things up and keep it somewhat canon compliant. And in my head this takes place sometime after Father is yeeted towards Truth. I might change the title this all I could think off oops.

Anyways you enjoy whatever this fic turned into! And happy pride!!

Olivier Mira Armstrong was terrifying. She was ruthless, ambitious and a damn capable general. Riza knew all these facts about the woman, and she actually got along reasonably well with the general. She respected her, definitely, and she was a little easier to deal with than her brother( for one, she did not share the unfortunate habit to walk around half-naked).

However, she was also confusing Riza. Greatly.

General Armstrong had never been “touchy-feely” (as she described it herself, usually with a tone of utter contempt for those who did fall under that category). She was obviously friends with some of her underlings, and even affectionate towards them – in her own way- but she was hardly the one to hug them or otherwise be physically affectionate.

This is why Riza’s heart stuttered when Armstrong, upon seeing her, immediately pulled her closer in a hug. She was slightly stiff, but it wasn’t unpleasant, not necessarily, and when Riza somewhat broke through her own stupor and managed to hesitantly hug her back, Armstrong squeezed her once before letting her go.

“Hawkeye. It is good to see you” it wasn’t a smile, but it was something. It was definitely more friendly than whatever Armstrong greeted most of the other soldiers with (and far more friendly than her expressions around colonel Mustang).

Riza thanked her ability to keep her expression neutral even when her heart was racing slightly, and she had no idea what Armstrong thought she were doing. “  Major general.  How is the North holding up?”

Armstrong cracked a grin. “ Good. It is getting a bit chilly, but that is good for character building” she slapped Riza’s shoulder. “You lot should visit again sometime”.

Riza arched her eyebrows slightly. “ I never thought the day would come that you invite the colonel to visit out of your own free will”.

“ He might freeze to death” Armstrong pointed out, almost gleeful. “And otherwise, he is a weakling who despises the cold so at the very least, I get the opportunity to watch him suffer”.

“ We are simply not used to such temperatures”.

“ From what I remember, you were holding up pretty well”

Riza studied the other woman, still trying to figure out her angle. “ I don’t mind the cold as much. What brings you to Central?”

“Business. And I heard there is a shooting range around here somewhere?”.

“There is” Riza’s eyes flicked to the sword Armstrong always carried. “ I thought you preferred the blade?”

“ Blades are superior to guns , but that doesn’t mean I can’t shoot one. Your ability with them has even impressed those at Briggs, so I thought I would test my skills against yours”.

“I am on duty right now, general Armstrong, but I could meet you after”.

“Mustang really is hopeless without you, isn’t he?”

“ I will see you later, general Armstrong”

“ All right, good luck babysitting Mustang”.

Armstrong sounded normal enough (and derisive about the colonel as always, so normal business there as well) but what the hell was she doing, hugging Riza and- Riza didn’t even know. It was just off.

Surprisingly, Riza actually had a good time with Armstrong at the shooting range. She was harsh and demanding but Riza could appreciate that. It didn’t hurt that the woman was a good shot, either. Riza liked it when someone could actually (or almost) keep up with her.

“ With skills like yours and that reputation, I wager you could work with anyone and anywhere. Why Mustang?“ Armstrong commented when they finally took a break ( despite her claims she didn’t believe in those).

“I hardly thought you were the type for idle gossip, major general”.

Armstrong sneered. “Hardly that, I am not my weakling brother. I am asking for myself”.

“ Are you inviting me to join the Briggs soldiers?” Riza questioned.

“Something I don’t offer lightly. We could use a shot like yours, though I’d have to give you some blade lessons as well “.

“I don’t like blades. But thank you for the offer”.

“That sounds like a cheap excuse, bordering on cowardly” Armstrong spat.

“ I also already have a position”.

“As Mustang’s bodyguard. I suppose with a moron like him, you really need the best”.

“ Unlike with the Ishval massacre, I made the right decision”.

“ At least you didn’t run”.

“The major is of Ishvalan heritage, is he not? I’d thought you have a clearer idea of the atrocities we committed against the Ishvalan population than others”.

“ I hope you don’t waste your time feeling sorry for yourself and for that war. It won’t help the Ishvalan population- actions will”.

“ I don’t. But I also do not absolve myself of my crimes. Which is one of the reasons I will always remain loyal to the colonel - I believe in his vision”.

Armstrong smirked slightly. “The blind man with a vision. You have to admit, that thing did have a sense of humour”.

“ I did not find it particularly entertaining, and the colonel regained his eyesight”.

“Unfortunately. Do you need to loiter any longer or can we continue to shoot?”

“Give it your all, major general”

Armstrong smirked at Riza. “ You bet your ass I will, lieutenant”

Riza filed away the way Armstrong’s voice lowered and she (playfully? This was Armstrong so surely not) bumped shoulders with Riza as part of whatever angle the major general was working. But even if Armstrong had ulterior motives, it was still a surprisingly good evening.

                       ----------------------------------------------------------------

It became somewhat of a habit. Riza would run into Armstrong and they would do something together, never just something ‘fun’ but something practical like going to the shooting range or cleaning weapons. That suited Riza just fine.

She couldn’t imagine Armstrong doing something as “asinine” as just having a drink, or going to a bar in the first place. Conceivably , she must have at some point (for one , Riza figured that alcohol was popular amongst Briggs soldiers to ward off cold and boredom) but Riza just could not imagine it.

Perhaps that’s why she said what she said what she did.

“ You could join?”

“Join what? “.

“As I told you, I cannot cancel my plans with Rebecca again. But you could join, we are just going for a drink”. She neglected to mention that Rebecca would probably drive Armstrong mad within three minutes- her best friend was the exact opposite of the harsh, ambitious major general.

Armstrong smirked. “ All right. Are you going now?”

“ In my uniform? “ Riza shook her head with a smile. “Rebecca would not let me live that down. She already believes I am too “devoted” to my job. I am going to change at home”.

“ Is this Rebecca a civilian friend?”.

“She isn’t. I met her during my time in the academy and we kept contact afterwards. She’s a damn good shot, but her ambitions never really lay with the military”.

“Why would she even join then? The military can’t use people who aren’t committed, that’s no – “.

“ Did you even bring civilian’s clothing?” Riza cut in.

“ No. Why would I? “

As Riza stayed silent while trying to figure out how to solve this issue, Armstrong smirked slightly. “If you are going to offer to borrow some of your own civilian clothing to me, I can assure you they won’t fit”

“ Well, you can hardly show up in your uniform”

“ Don’t break your head over it, Hawkeye. I will figure something out. Just let me know where I will be meeting you”.

Riza nodded. “ All right. I will meet you there”

After having taken a quick shower and changing into her black jumper and favourite pants, Riza rushed to the bar. Rebecca was already there, with two drinks in front of her.

“You better be late because you were hooking up with some hunk” she called out.

“I was trying to put on clothing, not take them off” she replied. “ Or would you have preferred I showed up in my uniform?”.

“ No, I’m pretty sure you already sleep in that thing. It’s ugly as Hell, how do you- “

Riza sat down, and emptied the glass meant for her. “ I wear it at work , and I am hardly going to break military regulation and start a relationship at work”.

Rebecca smirked. “What about the colonel?”.

Riza felt her lips tug into a smile besides herself. “ He’s a notorious womanizer remember? Besides, he is busier than ever”.

“I remember him sleeping on the job a lot, so I doubt he’s that busy. What about that Armstrong?”

Riza was relieved she had finished her glass , or she might have even choked. Well, she wouldn’t have, but her reaction would’ve been a bit more noticeable at least. “ What- we’re barely even friends Rebecca”.

Before she could argue against that more, Rebecca spoke.  “ I thought you were good friends? I mean, he’s a bit of a weirdo, but you gotta admit, he has those muscles and he seems actually capable of empathy. There are not a lot of men you can say that about”.

Right. The major. Not his confusing sister who Riza found herself spending more and more time with.  “ There would still be the issue of conflicting interests. And I have never thought of him like that”.

“Well, there’s alwa-“

Someone slammed a chair down next to them, prompting both Rebecca and Riza to look up. Riza blinked slowly, staring at the unfamiliar sight of major general Armstrong in civilian’s clothing. She wore black slacks, an open blazer and a simple blouse that was unbuttoned quite low. The sleeves were rolled up.

She tore her eyes off Armstrong to look at Rebecca. “Right, I forgot to tell you. I invited major general Armstrong to join us”

Rebecca turned around, mouthing “Armstrong”. Riza recognized the look on her friend’s face, but she was too late to interfere.

“All right, sit down – Olivier, was it? “ Rebecca leaned forward. “ Are there any good men in the North?”.

“General Armstrong is fine. And I’d say my men are the best – certainly better than those in central”  she said the last with a glance at Riza.

Rebecca looked far too interested. “Really? Are any of them single? “.

“Most of them are”

“Any way you could set me up with any of them?”.

Armstrong rolled her eyes. “ Is it so hard to get a man nowadays? I thought all you had to do was smile and the oaf thinks you’re desperately in love”.

Riza stifled a laugh, but Rebecca didn’t seem to think it as funny.  “ Getting a man is easy yes, but getting a good one.. You seem like the type with impossible standards, so haven’t you noticed Olivier?”

“ General Armstrong. And I am not exactly looking for men”

Riza glanced at Armstrong. She had guessed that long ago, although the major general had never outright told her. And since people were terrified of “the Northern wall of Briggs” , no one would think to outright ask it.

Armstrong studied Riza quietly, before slowly dragging her eyes over to Rebecca. Rebecca shrugged. “ More for us, then. Right, Riza?”.

Riza rolled her eyes. “ I told you, I am not looking for a man. I am busy enough with my job, and I am happy being on my own”.

Rebecca leaned towards Armstrong. “She means the colonel”.

“I doubt that”.

Rebecca snorted. “Have you ever seen them together? And during that business with those homun-whatever- some very interesting rumours there”.

“ Lieutenant Hawkeye could do far better than Mustang. And I have enough trust in her mental capabilities that she would not fall for his so-called ‘charms’”.

Riza smiled. “ I will take the compliment, and ignore your insults on the part of my superior”.

Armstrong smirked at her. “ As you always do”.

Rebecca glanced between the two, then suddenly stood. “ You know what, I am going to get more drinks. For one- “she smiled mischievously at Riza “ that might actually remove that stick from your ass. And also because I really want to be able to say I have seen the ice queen drunk”

She sauntered away. Armstrong turned to Riza. “ How did you two ever become friends?”.

“Rebecca has a great sense of humour- however aggravating she may be at times- and she is the most loyal person you can imagine. She made life at the academy more easy”.

Riza nodded at the other woman’s outfit. “ Where did you get that?”.

Armstrong smirked. “I persuaded someone to give it to me” .

“ It’s – you look good. It suits you”.

Armstrong nodded. “ You look very nice as well. Although I prefer you in your uniform”

For some reason, Riza flushed slightly at that. “ You have ample opportunity to see me in my uniform” she pointed out.

Armstrong smirked. “ That I do. Are you ever going to agree to a sword fighting practise?”.

“ I have told you, I prefer guns”

“ Why? Guns are the coward’s option. Blades are magnificent- and part of a long tradition”

“That may be, but I prefer the distance a gun offers. And it is quicker as well”.

“ Wouldn’t have taken you for a coward, Hawk’s eye” .

“ I am not. I simply do not take pleasure from killing. Guns should protect people, and not- “.

“ Guns, blades, any weapon was made to kill. It is foolish to deny that, and weak as well”.

“ So what you enjoy killing?”

Armstrong shrugged. “ I see it as part of my duty, that’s all”

“Fine, but- “

“Well, don’t you two look cozy” Rebecca said and put three large glasses on the table that were pretty much overflowing. Riza suddenly realised she and Armstrong had automatically bent towards each other as they had argued, and a quick glance at the other tables showed that the few people that were there had very obviously been listening to the conversation as they quickly looked away and struggled to start conversations.

She took one of the glasses.  “What did you get us?”.

Rebecca smirked. “ The good stuff. Cheers!” she took her own glass and empty half of it , then whistled as Olivier took hers and emptied it in one go. “The ice queen knows how to drink!”.

Rebecca leaned forward. “The question is, can you drink Riza under the table? “.

“Rebecca- “.

Rebecca hushed Riza. “ Ah come on, it will be fun! You remember what fun is, right?”.

“ I will need plenty of alcohol to deal with you anyways” Riza said drily, then emptied her glass as well.

Rebecca flagged the bartender. “Three – no wait six more please! The special for three of them, and surprise us for the other three”.

Armstrong arched her eyebrows. “A surprise? He could be putting  poison in there”.

“From what I’ve heard, there are quite a few people who would like to poison you, yes”.

“Rebecca” Riza admonished, but Armstrong actually chuckled.

“True enough. Let’s see what your surprise turns out to be, I can probably take it. I don’t know about you two”.

Riza inwardly groaned. Rebecca was competitive as hell so she already knew where this was going. Great.

Predictably, Rebecca rolled up her sleeves. “ Oh you’re in for it now, ice queen”.

Armstrong didn’t look impressed.  “I doubt that”. She looked at the bartender, who was walking over with their order. He put it down with a friendly smile, which rapidly disappeared when faced with Armstrong’s general expression. As he skittered away, Armstrong grabbed one of the glasses, Rebecca immediately following suit.

Before Riza could remind them they were not teenagers, they were adult women who were (arguably) intelligent enough to figure out this was not a good idea, they both downed their glasses and grabbed the next.

Riza gave up pretty quickly, deciding that if they wished to do something moronic she was just going to lean back and enjoy when it all fell apart, and she was the only one without a raging hangover.

It was actually pretty fun because Rebecca always had funny stories which were even funnier when she forgot half the names or description (“you know the guy he had one of those things like a beard but small sized and it’s just not a good look”) and they both looked like they were having fun as well so that was good.

“You’re too sober” Armstrong suddenly exclaimed, flagging the bartender over. “More drinks!” she called out , leading to the bartender looking at the table as though they were having an existential crisis (there wasn’t a bit of space left only alcohol, more alcohol and food).

“ I don’t – “

The bartender called people over, and five minutes later, all the old glasses were cleaned away and new ones had replaced them. Riza quickly grabbed a few before Rebecca and Armstrong could take their alcohol consumption to dangerous levels.

“ YESSSS “ Rebecca screamed when Riza quickly downed two, and grabbed the next one.

Armstrong just pushed two more her way. “ You’re far behind, Lieutenant”.

“ I am not as eager to get a hangover as you two” Riza replied, but still drank the two glasses.

“So you concede defeat before even trying?” Armstrong said, holding up another glass. Something about the woman’s expression made Riza react before she could think. She grabbed Armstrong’s hand, yanked it towards her own face, and tried to drink the glass.

Predictably, she got alcohol over her clothes but she managed to finish it with a triumphant expression. “ Hand me another one” she said.

Rebecca pushed another one her way. “ Are you going to hold hands with the ice queen during?” . Her eyes flicked to Riza’s hand meaningfully.

Armstrong let go of the glass, and Riza put it down, feeling strange about no longer holding on to the other woman. She quickly grabbed the glass Rebecca had pushed her way and emptied it. “ That’s all?”.

Rebecca smirked. “ Hardly. You’re still behind”.

Riza drank one more glass, after which Armstrong and Rebecca continued drinking as well.

“ You know, I could beat you” Rebecca said, leering in Armstrong’s direction.

“ No, you couldn’t “.

“ I could! Just because you’re like Ri- Riza and the only whatever you want to take is your job doesn’t mean I am not great “. She finished her glass and slammed it down before placing her elbow on the table. “Let’s arm wrestle, because I don’t have my gun on me right now”.

“ Nor would I have let you use it since you are inebriated “Riza pointed out.

Rebecca waved her off. Riza was really counting on the major general to be sensible one but of course she wouldn’t. She threw off her blazer, and placed her elbow down as well.

“Give up already, ice queen” Rebecca said.

“Or what? You’ll lose and I have to concede you can never beat me in anything?”.  

Rebecca smirked. “ Do you hate Mustang because he actually gets to kiss Riza?”.

“No he is simply that incapable, and also my competition”.

“ Also he doesn’t get to kiss me since he is my superior”.

“ He’s also plenty good-looking though” Rebecca pointed out, grimacing. Her arm was starting to tremble, and Riza saw it coming before it did. Rebecca did her usual move and tried to kick Armstrong to make her slip up.

Except Armstrong simply trapped Rebecca’s ankle between her legs. “ That’s the best cheat you have? Absolutely pathetic”.

“Well what’s your idea then if you’re brilliant as well?”.

Armstrong smirked. “ My idea?” she paused significantly, before suddenly bringing her arm down. Rebecca cursed as her hand was pressed onto the table. “ I win “.

Rebecca massaged her hand. “ You’re mean, woman”.

Riza shook her head. “ You could’ve predicted that”.

“ As my best friend, you’re supposed to be on my side”.

Riza arched her eyebrows slightly. “I doubt- “  she cut off when faced with Olivier Armstrong’s hand in front of her.

“ Your turn” Armstrong said.

“What?”.

Armstrong grabbed Riza’s hand. “ We do this at Briggs all the time, to decide who has to pay for the last round”.

“ You don’t have bars around”.

“ There’s one actually. It’s only a two-hour trek through the snow”.

“ Of course it is. Fine”. Riza extracted her hand, rolling up her sleeves before she grabbed Armstrong’s hand. The moment she did, the woman started exerting force. Riza slowly felt her arm starting to move down, and pushed back.

“Give up lieutenant you will never win”.

Riza didn’t bother to reply, simply used all her force to keep her arm from being pushed down. The woman was definitely stronger than her, although not too much stronger. And she obviously did this a lot, whereas Riza hardly joined arm wrestle games.

Riza suddenly had an idea. She blamed the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol. And not how Armstrong’s dry wit matched her own and how she had a way of looking at Riza that had more of an impact than the alcohol and how the whole situation with the colonel sometimes frustrated her when she woke up from the usual nightmare in her empty apartment.

She leaned in very close, lowering her voice significantly while pressing her knee against Armstrong’s. “ You know I never miss a mark”.

Armstrong actually wavered for a second, and Riza immediately pressed the advantage. At the last possible moment, Armstrong pushed back again. They were in stalemate for a moment, Armstrong’s arm nearly touching the table.

“ Bold words , but it’s actions that matter”.

Riza hooked her free foot around Armstrong’s ankle, using it to pull her even closer. “ Is it actions you want?”.

“I’ve been flirting and touching you to piss off Mustang enough that he’d develop an ulcer”.

“ Yes, I know that”.

Armstrong arched her eyebrows slightly. “ How?”.

“ You hugged me because Fuery was behind us and you know he would report it to the colonel. Havoc likes to visit the shooting range frequently, especially after the injuries he sustained in the field, so you know he would see us and likewise report. The incident with my hair- “.

“That one was actually not pre-mediated, it was merely annoying me” Armstrong cut in. Ria wasn’t particularly surprised that the major general had decided to suddenly reach out and almost tenderly brush her hair behind her ear  only because the loose strand had annoyed her.

“ You did not hug me after the first time until you were entering the colonel’s office and I was there as well. Every action around me has been calculated to cause as much frustration on the part of the colonel as possible”.

Armstrong didn’t look particularly- anything, really, now that she was found out.  “I don’t really do apologies. I did, however, actually enjoy spending time with you. It’s why I thought it would work in the first place”.

“ Because I am one of the few Central soldiers that don’t “annoy and bore you to death”?

“ Yes. And some other reasons”.

“ Major general?”.

Armstrong suddenly flashed a wicked grin and bent her head slightly so her lips were close to Riza’s ear. “ Call me Olivier, Riza “.

Riza was taken aback enough to forget about the arm wrestling for a second. That was all Olivier needed; the next second, Riza’s arm was slammed down.

Olivier didn’t let go at first, then slowly pulled back. “ Rounds are on Rebecca”.

“Hey! Riza just lost after whatever sexual tension you two were enjoying I feel like she should pay”.

Olivier looked at Rebecca for a moment. “ You would lose from Hawkeye. So you pay”.

“I can pay half” Riza offered, not ready to deal with Rebecca’s screaming. Rebecca closed her mouth, then shrugged. “ Fine. Ice queen pays next time though”.

Riza handed her some bills, watching Rebecca for a moment as she struggled to stand up and staggered toward the bar.

Olivier leaned in. “How serious were you that you never miss your mark?”.

Riza studied her lips for a moment. They looked very soft. As far as she could see underneath the suit, Olivier was built like the goddamn powerhouse she was , with broad shoulder and well-defined muscles. “ How drunk are you, Olivier?”.

“Not drunk enough to forget I have wanted this the first time I saw you assemble your gun. What about you, Riza?”.

“ I don’t even know” she answered honestly, and leaned in even more. “ This, however, is a very public place”.

“ Hm “.

“ And I want privacy because if I start to kiss you, I want to follow it up with other things too”.

Olivier smirked. “Such as?”.  

“ Well- “.

“Bill paid! Stop the bloody tension already and go take her home Riza”.

Riza slowly moved back. “ Rebecca- “.

“ I will get a cab, so you can finally get some”. She smirked at Armstrong. “ It was nice that you joined, ice queen”.

Olivier inclined her head “ Goodnight”.

Rebecca straight-on cackled.  “Not as good as yours, I am sure”. She gave Olivier a clumsy hug, then pulled Riza up to hug her properly before disappearing after some choice comments that had Riza pushing her away.

Olivier stood up as well. “Where exactly is this home of yours?”.

“Not far from here”.

“Perfect” Olivier said, moving closer to Riza. She pushed her shoulder against hers, and Riza felt their fingers brush for a moment. Her breath actually stuttered for a moment.

She licked her lips. “ Are you ready to go?”.

Olivier smirked. “ Wherever you want me”.

Riza certainly did not mind the images that provoked. Not that the one in front of her wasn’t already very much appreciated- the suit really did look very good. She really needed to take her home. And perhaps on a proper dinner sometime.

She didn’t work under Armstrong- surely that meant this did not violate the fraternization rules? And if it did, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She deserved at least a night, surely.  Or whatever they would give each other.  

 Whatever had never sounded better.

[theelliottsmiths]

Which Rammstein members would you get along with most and least?

I think I would get on with all of them to a certain degree, I don't think there would be much personality clashing on my end, though they may personally find me insufferable because if I'm not primarily listening to someone I'm either completely silent and "eerie" or I'm ranting for an hour about gloomy octopuses without realising it.

I think I'd get along with Richard the most. He's a very open person and I love listening to people talk about themselves and their interests: I think if I asked him a question to two about his work or his equipment he would be pretty excited to converse. He's a very gentleman, his words, and he knows a lot of weirdos so I don't think a deadpan joke or stimming or anything would phase him. Also, we are both physically affectionate/huggers; I'm not saying he would be my little spoon or anything because we are complete strangers, but a hug goes a long way in making other huggers feel good about your presence.

In the right setting I think I'd get in pretty well with Till. We share a lot of similarities, good and bad, but the problem would be finding a time when we were both receptive? I'm not the type to approach people while they're just being a regular human and even at something like a meet and greet I would be standing away from the crowd and feel weird about the dynamics of it all. If it was a relaxed party where we had time to actually talk and he instigated I think we could go for hours though, I'm good at talking to people in a way that makes time fly by easily and use all the "tricks" to make sure people feel comfortable and able to talk about literally whatever they want. I'm not judgemental, or at least try not to seem that way.

Thanks to my dad I'm also immune to even the grossest sex jokes, and his crassness wouldn't phase me at all. I'm super not his type so there would be no weirdness there. I want him to sign one of the poems I've annotated the most but I'm not sure he would appreciate seeing my thoughts on it even if he didn't read what I've written. I've never cared at all about signatures, dont understand why other people care, but it's a way of showing just how much I enjoy and appreciate his art I guess?

Also I'm very outdoorsy and would likely just suggest places in my county I think he'd appreciate. Maybe some zoo talk.

Paul gets on happily with pretty much every fan, it seems. He always appears excited or at least positive when he's engaging with people, as if he's showing his genuine gratitude for their love and support. I can handle the bounciness. I want to know what his favourite song to play live is and also if the melting water bottle thing was a joke so there wouldn't be an awkward silence. I kind of want to show him that video someone made of silly music played over a live performance, you know the one. I'd try to gently explain how awful the 2019 tour makeup was but that the outfit was very nice, a little steampunk spaceman.

Flake and I have quite similar senses of humour. Or rather, it overlaps a lot. The environment would be a massive factor and I'm not sure how the interaction would come about, but in the right scenario it'd probably be generally a positive encounter. I say his name like they all say it but it probably sounds terrible to German ears so he may hate that very much.

Oli would be tricky. The side of me that can go days without talking to anyone and that has meant some people have only heard my voice six months or more after meeting me would probably be the side to kick in so in pretty sure it would be a neutral silence? I also don't know what his English is like and my German is all vocab and no grammar. It could be a pretty companionable silence, but since it doesn't seem like there would be pressure to talk from him or a discomfort with the silence I think neither of us would. Also I'd feel weird calling him Oliver or Oli.

I'm worried I would call Schneider a nasty bastard rat man to his face because my filter isn't the best? The things I blurt are pretty much always compliments/positive in my mind (things like 'wow your smile is like sunshine' or 'huh, your posture is superb', yes I have said these in real life. I haven't seen it but my partner told me about Newt in Fantastic Beasts 2 saying someone's eyes are like a salamanders as a compliment and that's absolutely something I'd say) but I'm worried id jokingly say that and he would not like it (or not get the joke because who would?) because he is both a nasty bastard rat man and also a really sweet soft guy. I want to ask him his opinion on Brian Viglione in the hopes that somehow itd get them and/or him/Rammstein and the Dresden Dolls together.

If I could control the urge to tell him I appreciate his femininity maybe a few positive lines could be exchanged. Possibly I'd be overwhelmed with the desire to wrestle him because he's clearly a Dom top and also very pretty and feminine and when I come into contact with another Dom top I want to fight them. In a nice way.

Do you call him Schneider or Christoph? They both feel too familiar.

[thechocoboos]

Hello! I found your blog by searching Noctis' fics and I really love your headcannons!! They're great! Can we ask requests? (Because I would love how the Chocobros react to "you" being hit on by another guy :-) )

Hey there, thanks so much!!! I welcome requests with open arms and thank you so much for submitting a request! This one was a lot of fun to think about!

Headcanon: Their S/O Being Hit on

Noctis

He’s a bit miffed when some dude sidles up to you two in the marketplace, blatantly flirting and what not

This boi is a prince; he doesn’t take some jerkwad flirting with his honey-bun lightly

Noct wants to act out, goodness does he want to act out, but he restrains himself, knowing the Prince of Lucis can’t go around making scenes

He settles for a glare, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tugging you close

“Sorry,” He’ll say, not sorry at all, “She’s taken.”

Most of the time it works. Other times, it doesn’t. Sometimes it only seems to encourage the offender to try harder, getting all up in your personal space and whatnot

He’ll play the prince card if that happens. “Hate to break it up,” he’ll say, crossing his arms, “But we really have to get going, plenty of work to do back at the castle.”

You usually get his drift and slide away from the creepozoid trying to flirt, giving Noct a kiss on the cheek and smiling. “Of course, Prince Noctis.”

Oh boy, if nothin’ else works then this sure does. Noct gets a cocky smirk on his face, staring down the weirdo with pride before you two are off to continue your date

Later on, Noct is lowkey sulky

He gets clingy, hugging your side all evening and peppering your face with kisses, pouting when you shoo him away (not that you do it very often, who could say no to Noct?)

He doesn’t bring up what happened earlier, but you know it’s on his mind

You want to bring it up? Sure. Go for it. But he’s gonna deny any hint of jealousy, even though you both know the truth

After a few hours of cuddles, kisses, and bonding time, this hot mess gives no more thoughts to the creep from earlier and continues his royal life as normal

Prompto

At first, this sunshine is oblivious

“Wow, he sure wants to talk a lot.” He’ll think to himself, before realizing that this cactus-squealer is tryna make moves on you

He gets a bit worried, to be honest, thinking he might not be good enough compared to this other dude who’s taller and stronger and more attractive (that last bit is a lie; no one is more attractive than Prompto)

After a few moments of nervously looking away and feeling like garbage, he realizes how uncomfortable you are, triggering a bit of anger

That’s right. Our lil Prompto gets angry

His face turns red and he openly glares at the trash-snogger, no one’s gonna talk like that to his S/O

Despite his displeasure, he won’t smacktalk the stranger. He simply excuses you both, pulling you away with him, his hand clasping yours firmly and squeezing in desperation

Honestly? It makes him a bit insecure and nervous

He brings it up later quietly while you’re both at home and he’s never able to look right at you, choosing to glance at the walls, the ground, anywhere but your beautiful face

“Am I… good enough?” He’ll finally ask, looking at you, violet eyes ready to tear up

Each time, you nod, placing your hands on his face and smiling softly. He’s so much more than good enough

You’ll tell him that, place a sweet lil kiss on his cutie pie nose, and remind him that you’re in a relationship with him, not that walking wrench from earlier

Eventually, Prompto’s insecurity goes away, and he doesn’t even feel a twinge of jealousy, trusting you with all his loveable heart

Ignis

Ignis Scientia? Sorry, did you mean Mr. Passive Aggressive?

This man. THIS MAN. The most indirect man you’ll ever meet

Subtlety is an art, yet he has mastered it

He doesn’t openly show his disdain for some talking toolbox flirting with you, but boi you can tell

He slides an arm around you and gives the man a painfully polite smile

Iggy continues to talk to him, responding to everything with an overly pleasant voice and double sided words with underlying meanings

It intimidates the offender, in fact, it terrifies him

Iggy-boo doesn’t have to lead you away, because the other guy was already running for the hills

That evening? Ignis is just more affectionate than normal, not enough for you to question him, but enough for you to notice

He makes your favorite meals, compliments you just a tad bit more than normal, and gives you an achingly good massage

You’re welcome to try and bring up the situation from earlier or try and call him out, he shushes you with a sweet kiss or dodges the question like Ardyn dodging the law

However, the situation doesn’t bug him at all

Iggy is solid in this relationship, he loves you, he knows you love him; the man has nothing to worry about

Gladio

Gladio is amused af when he spots some dumpster talking to you

Yes, he’s lowkey jealous when he notices the guy is flirting, but Gladio does what he always does: flexes his problems away

He slides on up, “Hey babe, I’m back. Got you some cotton candy.”

Despite the weird, flirting third wheel you’ve got, he passes the cotton candy to your hand with the same, soft, loving smile he gets when he sees you, and leans down for a soft kiss

Yes, he does things like to intimidate any weird lurkers, but he also does it cause he loves you and legit wants to give you cotton candy and a kiss ok

“So, who’s this?” Gladio asks, a cocky grin on his face when he pulls away, raising an eyebrow when you admit that you don’t know

Gladio always does the same thing, crosses his arms and makes sure the other guy can see them flexing. “Name’s Gladio.” He’ll say, giving the dude a raised nod, “I’m their boyfriend.” He’ll then toss an arm around you, watching the other guy pale and run off, throwing nervous glances back at Gladio

Gladio laughs every time

Yes, this hot hunk of a man is usually amused, but there’s still part of him that was genuinely jealous

He’ll pepper you with kisses, keeping a warm, comforting arm around you the rest of the day and keep telling you that he loves you

“Hey, babe.”

“Yeah, Gladio?”

“Just a reminder, I love you. A lot.”

It always makes you smile

You can bring up the situation later and unlike Noctis and Ignis, Gladio will actually talk about it

He’s pretty nonchalant, chuckling or snorting, but still, there’s usually just a twinge of self doubt in his amber eyes, although you wipe it away with a swift kiss on his cheek

In the end, Gladio’s a cocky dude, he knows he doesn’t have to worry about weird pool noodle men trying to make moves on his S/O

[the-captains-ayebrows]

Le Cirque Noir

For the 2018 CS Little Bang! Word count ~13,400; Also on AO3

 * Let’s say 17 year old Emma got away from the cops when Neal set her up.   * Let’s say the Brothers Jones joined the Circus instead of the Royal Navy. Let’s also say they can shape-shift into big, black jaguars.   * What kind of antics can teenage!CS get into in a modern world where magic is real? Can a lost girl find her home among the “Circus Freaks”?

Grab your popcorn - the show’s about to start! 

Rating/Warnings:  T for swearing, sexual innuendo, brief non-graphic description of character/animal injury

Other pairings: Jewel Queen (Liam/Regina) and slight mentions of Ruby/Mulan

Many (MANY!!!) thanks to the wonderful people I worked with on this project: my beta @blackwidownat2814 who was so encouraging when I wanted to throw my laptop out the window, and artist @amorecolorfulmoniker who made such beautiful, beautiful pictures for the story! {artwork link coming soon}  You have both been a pleasure and a delight.

Special shout-out to @lenfaz and @businesscasualprincess  who came up with the original idea for this story which Lena made into a Halloweek edit.  Ladies, I hope this story makes you smile! And, of course, to @captainswanbigbang​ for organizing this whole she-bang!

“Have you actually attended one of our performances, Miss…?”

“Swan. Emma Swan. And no.”

“Miss Swan. This Circus is unique. It’s a safe haven for individuals with unique abilities.”

“You mean freaks and weirdos?”

The Ringmaster scowled. “Not quite. More accurately, our performers are not exactly of this world. Sometimes they come here knowing what they are, sometimes the talent is latent, and yet this place draws them like a beacon.”

Emma held up a hand to stop the monologue. She’d heard people talking in town about this amazing circus where the magic almost seemed real, but she didn’t need a sales pitch. She needed a place to hide.

“Nice story, lady, but what the hell does it have to do with me? Or the job?” The Ringmaster’s steely-eyed scrutiny gave Emma the creeps. She quickly tucked her hands back into her jacket pockets to keep from fidgeting in her seat.

“Everything, Miss Swan,” the woman replied, cool as ice. As if this was a perfectly normal conversation to be having. At Emma’s unimpressed huff, the Ringmaster crossed her arms and arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Let me ask you something: have you ever felt out of place? Like a freak, as you say?”

Emma kept her mouth shut and her body tensed, fight-or-flight instincts kicking in. She didn’t know what the hell this woman’s angle was, but she didn’t like the way this conversation was going. She just- she needed a job and to get the hell out of town. Sure, running away to join the circus was like, the biggest cliché ever, but it was the best solution available for her very immediate problem. Apparently her silence spoke volumes.

The Ringmaster narrowed her eyes and leaned forward over the old spindle-legged table serving as a makeshift desk. “Has anything strange or unexplainable ever happened when you were frightened or upset?”

For a second, Emma’s heart stopped. Her memory flashed to that parking garage two days ago. The officer’s gun pointed at her chest. Her back flat against an ugly yellow wall. The loud crack that for a blinding moment of terror she thought was gunfire until she saw the rain of sparks cascading down around her from a ruptured security light above her head. Just enough of a distraction for her to run. But that wasn’t anything, right? Just dumb luck. Besides there’s no way this Ringmaster lady knew about that.

Feigning indifference, Emma rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, if the next words out of your mouth are ‘You’re a wizard, Harry’, I’m running out of here and calling the cops.”

The Ringmaster gave her a patronizing smile. “I think we both know you won’t do that, Miss Swan. Now you said you needed a job. Do you want it or not?”

Emma bit the inside of her cheek. She really didn’t have any other options. She could deal with the crazy lady and her freak show for a while and when the heat died down, she could always ditch them later.

She nodded her head quickly. “Yeah, I want it. I don’t really have a talent or anything, but I can sell tickets or popcorn or whatever.”

The Ringmaster smiled, almost genuinely this time, though there was still an edge to it that Emma didn’t understand. “Oh, I’m sure we can do better than that. How do you feel about animals?”

Emma shrugged one shoulder. “They’re okay, I guess.”

“And you seem like the hard-headed sort.” The Ringmaster tapped an impeccably manicured fingernail on her desk for a moment then chuckled to herself. “Oh, yes. I have just the job for you. Welcome to Le Cirque Noir, Miss Swan. You may call me Regina.”

--/--

“Beast tamer? Are you kidding me?” When Regina said she’d be working with animals, Emma pictured mucking out stalls or at worst walking around the ring with a snake draped around her shoulders. Not sticking her head in the mouth of a freaking panther. Yet here she was letting Regina lead her into the center ring where not one, but three massive black panthers awaited them.

“I do not kid, Miss Swan.”

Okay, upon closer inspection it was two massive panthers and one slightly-smaller-but-fully-capable-of-biting-her-arm-off panther. They seemed well-trained at least, each perched calmly on his own small circular platform. Still, there was something eerie about the trio beyond the lethality of a jungle cat. It was their eyes, Emma decided. Each panther had eyes that nearly glowed in the dim lighting of the tent. An iridescent, unnatural blue.

As she and Regina approached, those eyes all turned toward them, and Emma would’ve sworn the middle panther was staring at her. It cocked its shiny black head to the side and showed its sharp white teeth in what Emma had the weirdest feeling was a grin. Did panthers grin? That made no sense at all. It licked its chops and Emma had about decided that she needed to get the hell out of there before it ate her alive when the largest of the panthers hopped gracefully down to the dusty floor and loped toward them.

The approaching predator immediately drew Emma’s attention. She knew better than to think she could outrun it, but maybe Regina could slow it down since it was her damn cat after all and -

Emma gaped as the panther sidled up to Regina, rose up on its hind paws, and licked the Ringmaster’s face. Regina made a garbled noise of disgust and dabbed at her cheek with the cuff of her sleeve.

“Liam, we have talked about this.”

The panther, Liam apparently, settled back down on all fours and Emma must’ve gone completely insane because the low rumbling sound the cat made distinctly sounded like laughter. It nudged it’s head under Regina’s hand until she scratched it behind the ears then trotted back to its post, sitting at perfect attention and looking immensely pleased with itself.

Regina rolled her eyes at the big cat, then turned to Emma, gesturing for her to step forward. Without waiting to see if Emma had complied, Regina addressed the three panthers, her voice booming and authoritative.

“This is Emma Swan. She has recently joined the cast of our show. She’ll be acting as your new beast tamer and I expect the three of you to be on your best behavior.” Though the instructions were directed at all three animals, at the last comment, Regina appeared to be focusing her attention on the middle panther who blinked at her as if he were bored and turned his head away.

Regina turned her back on the cats, ready now to give Emma her orders. “Liam will teach you the act. I expect you to be ready for a full performance by the end of the week. You can meet with Mrs. Lucas this evening about fitting you for a costume and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Emma interrupted. She’d figured Regina was just theatrical. Like one of those performers who stays in character all the time. But this was above and beyond. Talking at animals was odd enough. Expecting an animal - even an apparently affectionate and weirdly expressive one - to actually teach her a circus act was too much. Of course the person willing to take Emma in was a nut job. Of course she was.

“Liam is going to teach me?” She pointed at the panther in question. “That Liam. The one with giant paws and a tail?”

“You remember what I told you before?” Regina appeared unperturbed, as though she expected Emma’s reaction.

“All that junk about people with special abilities? I figured that was just something you told the locals to drum up business.”

“The truth can be stranger than fiction, Miss Swan.” She raised her voice, but didn’t turn around. “Boys! Come introduce yourselves.”

Liam raised his head and roared. Emma looked past Regina’s shoulder in shock as immediately all three cats’ eyes flashed blood red. Their bodies began to sort of vibrate - blurring, twisting and contracting. In the space of a few (now racing) heartbeats, three young men stood before Emma where the panthers had been, all three with dark hair and startling blue eyes.

“What the hell!” Emma skittered a few steps back, unable to process what she’d just seen. Slowly, the three stepped forward as Regina had instructed. The tiny part of Emma’s mind that hadn’t completely short-circuited found it ironic that they were treating her as if she was a cornered animal when not ten seconds ago, they’d been the ones with fur. A hysterical giggle bubbled up at the thought, but she swallowed hard to stifle it.

Regina stood aside as the youngest - apparently the small panther - reached out to shake Emma’s hand. He looked maybe thirteen years old. Thin and gangly rather like his panther self, he had the makings of a kid who would grow up to be a looker someday. When Emma didn’t immediately accept his handshake, he ducked his head and looked up at her shyly, his longish mousy hair falling over his eyes. Wide-eyed, but not knowing what else to do, Emma shook his hand (because it's a hand now, not a paw holy crap) and he grinned exuberantly.

“Name’s Liam, miss. Nice to meet you.” His voice had that adorable adolescent crackle to it, not to mention a slight accent.

Disarmed by this not-so-fearsome beast, Emma smiled back. “Nice to meet you, too. Wait, I thought the big guy was Liam?”

“He is.” Another voice broke in, lower and smoother than the first. Emma turned her head, finally getting a good look at the young man in the middle. Her breath caught in her throat. Messy, ‘I woke up like this’ hair. Heavy, dark eyebrows cocked in an ‘I know you’re checking me out and rightfully so’ kind of way. Sculpted cheekbones. A hint of reddish scruff along his sharp jawline. Tall and lean with jeans that fit just so. He couldn’t have been a more picture perfect stereotypical bad boy if he tried - and everything about him screamed ‘I expect you to believe I’m not trying’ - but damned if it wasn’t working for him. His pose bespoke a casual arrogance, the hand hitched on his belt buckle, the curl of his lips as he spoke- wait. What? Too caught up in her ogling, Emma almost didn’t realize he’d continued speaking.

“... father was an unoriginal arsehole, but that’s another story. We call the runt here, Lee, and I must say I’m glad to see him showing such good manners to a lady.” He rustled Lee’s hair, laughing as the boy smacked his hand away. “Speaking of manners, I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. Killian Jones, at your service.”

Killian offered Emma his hand as Lee had done, but when Emma took it, he turned her wrist gently. He raised their joined hands, dipping his head, but before he could bestow the kiss to her knuckles that was so obviously coming, the third man who must’ve been Liam hip-checked Killian out of the way.

“You’ll have to forgive my brother, Emma. He fancies himself a ladies man.”

Emma chuckled, caught somewhere between nervousness and admittedly a little bit of disappointment. Liam smiled warmly at her, ignoring Killian’s huff of annoyance from beside him. He was the tallest and broadest of the three, obviously the eldest. His posture and bearing suggested maybe he’d been in the military or a cop or something, but at the moment way too many other questions were swirling through Emma’s mind for her think much about it.

“As you may have gathered, I’m Liam and I’d be happy to show you the ropes around here.” He squeezed Emma’s shoulder reassuringly, then exchanged a glance with Regina that shed a little bit of light on their earlier interaction in his panther form. Emma filed it away as something to ask about later.

“Thank you.” Regina nodded at him with a barely concealed smile, and as he stepped back into line with his brothers, she turned to Emma.

“So you see, Miss Swan, taming the beasts should be simple enough. Taming the Jones Brothers, however…” She glared at Killian again who replied with a sarcastic smirk. “Well. Good luck with that.” Business completed, Regina turned and walked out of the tent without a backward glance.

“Wait! You can’t- I don’t-” Emma spluttered as the reality sank in that she was now alone with three panther-people and she was expected to learn a circus act. She didn’t trust Regina by a long shot, but shit - at least she was some kind of buffer between Emma and the unbelievable situation she’d stumbled into. Literally unbelievable. As in she couldn’t make herself believe it even though the proof was (respectively) standing awkwardly, smirking and furrowing its brow right in front of her.

Emma’s heart pounded. She raised one finger and opened her mouth. No words came out. Now all three Jones brothers looked concerned. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. She tried again.

“I need a minute. I’ll- I’ll be right back.”

Emma ran.

Huddled behind the snack bar seemed as good a place as any to process the last few hours. This morning she’d been running from the cops, hiding in plain sight amongst the bustling crowd at what she had thought was a regular circus midway. The sensory overload of voices and music and buttered popcorn and bright colors worked wonders to numb her broken heart. When she saw the “Help Wanted” sign on one of the trailers, she’d knocked on that door without hesitation.

Now she’s what? What the hell even was this place? Magic was real. Freaking were-panthers were real. What about vampires? Zombies? Witches? Regina was probably a witch. Was Emma a witch? Holy crap, would she turn into some kind of animal, too? Emma’s pulse pounded in her ears. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead against them, her breaths coming faster and faster until she was well and truly hyperventilating.

Footsteps sounded off to her right. Emma sat up and tried to get her breathing back under control. Moments later, Killian Jones’ head peeked around the corner.

“Ah! There you are, Swan. I’ve been looking everywhere.”

He sounded far too chipper for her liking. Emma cut her eyes to him then quickly looked away. “I’m fine.”

He rounded the corner and walked over to where she at. “Never said you weren’t. Sitting in the fetal position in the dirt behind a concession stand is exactly what people do when they’re fine.”

Emma finally looked up at him and shoved her long, blond hair behind her ears. “Ha. Ha. What do you want, Jones?”

“It’s not what I want, love. It’s what you want.” He sat down in the dirt beside her, using the building as a back rest. “Bit of an orientation perhaps? I expect you have a few questions.”

Yeah, just a few million. “Not your love. But…” Emma sighed. “I am kinda having trouble wrapping my head around all this. Is, like, everything in every story and horror movie I’ve ever watched real? Am I a- a-”

“Circus freak?” His voice held more understanding than teasing, and it gave her prickles under her skin. Emma didn’t want some cute guy acting all understanding. She knew how that played out.

She huffed and turned away from his searching blue eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Look, Regina must think you’re something or she wouldn’t have brought you on, but you can’t think about it like that. It’s too much at once. You’ll go bonkers. Start with one simple thought. Magic is real.”

“That’s a simple thought, huh?”

“Trust me, Swan, if you can convince yourself to accept that, the rest gets easier.”

Trust. Ha. Trust was out of the question, but as Emma considered his words, he did make a certain kind of sense. Baby steps or whatever. And maybe she didn’t need understanding but she could probably use an ally. “I don’t trust anything about this place, but fine. I’ll try it your way.” Emma took a deep breath and looked Killian straight in the eye. “Magic is real.”

He nodded encouragingly and she tried again. “Magic is real.” After repeating the phrase aloud a few times, she closed her eyes and let the words play in her brain over and over again until they sounded slightly less crazy. She opened her eyes to find Killian watching her, a tiny smile tilting up one corner of his lips. When their eyes met, his smile widened making the dimples in his cheeks deeper.

“You move your lips when you’re thinking.”

“I do not!” Emma shoved his shoulder. It only served to make him laugh, but his expression sobered quickly at her frown. “It’s just- it’s a lot to take in, you know?”

“Aye, that it is. I grew up knowing what I was and even so, the first time I changed…” Killian let his gaze drift at the memory, then shook his head. “Well, I was very lucky to have Liam around.”

“And your father?” As soon as the question came out of her mouth she wished she could take it back. Why was she asking personal questions of this guy? God only knew she wouldn’t want him asking her anything about her family. Or lack thereof. Emma’s cheeks warmed as she awkwardly muttered,“You said something about your father before.”

A muscle ticked in Killian’s jaw before he answered. “My father left us a few years before that. It’s been just Liam and me for quite some time now.”

“What about Lee?” Geez, what is wrong with her? She’s prying now. This definitely counted as prying.

Still, at the mention of the youngest Jones, Killian’s expression lightened. He ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “Lee came along a bit later. He’s our half-brother. We actually didn’t know about him until the circus stopped at this little seaport town and a great sodding panther cub comes running into the tent hissing and swiping at everybody. Poor little bugger was scared out of his wits. It was his first change, you see. Liam and I shifted straight away and we got him calmed down. Next thing we knew, there was a third member of the Magnificent Brothers Jones.”

Okay, so she was really on a roll with the 20-Questions thing, but this - hearing Killian’s story - was helping. Her curiosity overcame her anxiety. “How‘d you know he was your brother?”

That earned her a raised eyebrow and a wry smile. “Besides the fact that he shapeshifts into a melanistic jaguar?”

Melanistic? Who the hell talks like that? He even said it with that British pronunciation so the word came out like jag-you-are. Emma snorted. “Yeah, besides that.”

“When he reverted to his human form, he managed to tell us he was looking for his father. He showed us a picture of the man and it turned out to be our father. Apparently the bastard had left Lee behind, too.”

“How the hell was he carrying a picture if he was in panther form? Wait, where do your clothes go when you’re a panther?”

Killian laughed outright. “I shapeshift into an animal, but you’re asking about my clothing? Not even what’s a Brit like me doing turning into a South American jungle cat? You’re an interesting lass, Emma Swan.” His features shifted into a lazy smirk and there went those prickles under Emma’s skin again. “You know, if you’d prefer I reappear naked, I can certainly-”

Emma smacked him in the chest, but a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Tsk. Such violence!’ he teased and Emma’s smile grew brighter despite herself. Killian’s expression softened, his eyes doing a sort of twinkly thing. “Never thought I’d see one of those.”

“What?”

He scratched behind his ear, the tips of which had turned ever so slightly pink. “A smile.”

Emma rolled her eyes at the cheesy comment, but her grin lingered until another question occurred to her that made it fade. “Am I going to change? Like you do?” She hated how brittle her voice sounded. “Regina said something about people with latent talents.”

Killian furrowed his brow. “How old are you, Swan?”

“How old are you?” she snapped back with a scowl.

“Nineteen. But my point is, most shifters have their first change around age ten or eleven.”

“Oh.” Emma nodded in understanding. “I’m seventeen. Just turned.”

“So there you are. If you haven’t changed yet, you likely aren’t a shifter. Which begs the question, just what are you, Swan?”

Emma raised her eyebrow, attempting to mimic the smirk she was coming to associate with Killian. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She nudged his shoulder teasingly with her own, but the movement brought their faces within inches of each other.

“Perhaps I would.” His eyes held something a little too earnest. His body a little too warm beside hers. Their knees brushed. His breath caressed her cheek. Too close, too close, too close. No, she didn’t need him making eyes at her. She didn’t need the stupid fluttery feeling in her stomach. She just needed an ally. Someone to help her navigate this strange new place. That’s all.

Emma straightened and cleared her throat. “Yeah? So would I…” She stood, half-heartedly dusting the grass off her butt, her legs a little shaky from sitting down too long (and maybe from this whole moment she was having with Killian). She held out her hand to him and he took it, pulling himself to his feet. “Hang on, why does a Brit like you turn into a jungle cat?”

He gave her a grin that was likely intended to be mysterious, but came off a little goofy. “Magic, Swan,” he replied as if that answered everything, and at least for the moment, she supposed it did.

--/--

After what felt like hours of walking through the routine with Liam and the younger Joneses, Emma had a good handle on all the blocking at least. Liam had been kind and patient with her even when she got frustrated and huffy and, you know, let her mouth get away with her a little. Looking over at Lee and Killian, Emma decided Liam must have had a lot of practice dealing with stuff like that. Probably a big brother thing. Not that she knew anything about brothers.

The guys had all stayed in human form throughout rehearsal - likely to keep Emma from having another panic attack. She appreciated that. Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad. It was weird, sure. A definite shock to her system, but still… maybe it could be kind of okay here. For a while at least.

At the end of rehearsal, Emma asked Liam to point her to Mrs. Lucas’ trailer for wardrobe like Regina had told her, but after an embarrassingly loud growl from her stomach, he directed her to the cook house instead. Since there was no show that night, the grounds crew left the bright outdoor flood lights off, but the strings of small globe lights which criss-crossed the lot produced enough light for Emma to find her way.

It should have been scary. Her first night in a strange place with some very strange individuals, but there was a vibe to this place. She couldn’t put it into words. It made her feel… not at home, exactly, but like this was where she needed to be.

If Regina had been telling the truth about the circus (and Emma had just spent the last several hours with were-panthers, so yeah), then that meant the whole ‘beacon’ thing must be true, too. But that shouldn’t apply to Emma, right? Just because Regina believed she had magic or hidden abilities or whatever, that didn’t make it real.

Emma wasn’t special. Just some orphan no one gave a damn about - not her parents, not even the one guy who was supposed to love her. He’d made that pretty clear. Dammit, she didn’t want to think about Neal. Not now. Her brain was already scraped raw by everything she’d seen today.

Halfway to the cook house, a soft sound behind her caught her attention. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Without moving her head, Emma glanced around her. She couldn’t see anyone, but the shadows on the ground looked wrong somehow and she knew.

She was being followed.

Emma’s blood ran cold. Cursing herself for being too far inside her own head, she slowed her steps, trying not to give away the fact that she knew someone was behind her. Heart pounding, she crouched down pretending to fix the laces on her thrift store Doc Martens and subtly pulled her small pocket knife out of her sock as she stood back up. Thumbing the blade open, she spun on her heel only to come face-to-face, er, muzzle with a blue-eyed panther.

As soon as the animal caught sight of her knife, its eyes widened in alarm and glowed crimson as the creature shifted into Killian Jones.

“Easy there, Swan. I come in peace!” He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, love.”

Emma narrowed her eyes, not lowering the knife quite yet. “Then why the hell were you sneaking up on me?”

Killian lowered his arms and frowned. “Not sneaking, just trying to catch up. I can’t help it if I’m naturally stealthy as a panther.”

Emma huffed and put her knife away. “Fine. Why were you trying to catch up with me, Catboy?”

The epithet earned her a raised eyebrow, but he seemed to be trying not to smile. “Catboy? Really, love?”

Emma shrugged. “I’ll stop calling you ‘Catboy’ if you stop calling me ‘love’.”

This time it was Killian’s turn to roll his eyes. “Very well. At any rate, I was following you because I thought you might appreciate a familiar face at dinner. I know it can be difficult to be the new kid.”

As much as Emma’s hackles were still up, she could tell Killian was being sincere. Something about his open expression and the way he scratched behind his ear. And yeah, she supposed it might be nice to have someone to sit with.

“Oh. Okay.” Her posture relaxed and she let one corner of her mouth tilt up just a little bit. Killian brightened immediately. Maybe a little too much. She jabbed a finger at his chest. “But cool it with all that stealthy panther crap or I’m gonna put a collar with a bell on you.”

“Kinky.”

Shit. Now he was waggling those stupid eyebrows and beaming at her, and why did that make her feel all squirmy inside? Just annoyance probably.

“Shut up.” Emma groaned and shoved his shoulder, and why exactly did she feel the need to touch him every time he was being irritating?

Killian just laughed. “Come along, Swan, before the Dwarves eat all the pie.”

--/--

Dinner with the cast and crew of Le Cirque Noir was, to say the least, an experience. Killian hadn’t been kidding about the dwarves. There were seven of them and they had, in fact, claimed all the pie from the dessert table before Emma and Killian arrived, but he somehow managed to snag her a chocolate chip cookie. With Killian close by her side, she also met an honest-to-god mermaid, a giant, two people who could talk to animals and one very friendly werewolf who would apparently be her bunkmate.

“I’m Ruby!”

Emma had barely sat down with her food before a beautiful brunette approached her, all white teeth and red lipstick.

“Um, hi?” Emma mumbled around the bite of food she’d shoved in her mouth.

“It’s Emma, right? So nice to meet you. I’m a werewolf, but don’t worry. I don’t bite. Well, I do bite, but I won’t bite you. Promise. Regina told me you’d be staying in the trailer with me and Mulan and hey where’d Mulan go?” Ruby finally paused for breath, looking around the tent full of long tables that served as a makeshift dining hall.

Killian spoke up. “I saw her talking to David over by the drinks, but honestly, Red. Give Emma a chance to get some food in her stomach before you chew her ear off. If you want to chew something, I think there’s a squeaky toy around here somewhere.”

Ruby gave Killian an unimpressed glare, her eyes flashing red for a moment. “Why don’t you go find a ball of yarn to entertain yourself and let us have some girl talk?”

“I think I hear a squirrel outside. How about you go chase it?”

Ruby scoffed. “You’re just cranky because you haven’t had your supper. You want a little saucer of milk? Can of tuna?”

“Bitch.”

“Pussy.”

“Are you two seriously gonna fight like cats and dogs?” Emma had been growing more and more concerned by the second, but to her surprise Ruby and Killian both burst out laughing.

Killian patted her on the back. “Nice one, Swan. And no worries, just a little shifter humor between old friends.”

Emma looked between the two of them, utterly bewildered. “Whatever you say, Catboy.”

Ruby grinned at her, wagging a finger. “You’re gonna fit right in here, Emma. Mulan needs to meet you. I’ll go get her.”

Ruby stood from the table and as soon as her back was turned to them, Killian called out, “You mean you’re going to go fetch her?”

Ruby cast a narrow-eyed glare over her shoulder. “Can it, Catboy.”

Killian turned his attention to Emma, who was trying hard not to choke on her dinner while laughing under her breath. “Oh now, love,” he scolded playfully, “just look what you’ve started.”

--/--

Emma’s first few days at the circus flew by in flurry of sawdust and sequins. Under Liam’s tutelage, she learned her act quickly. Really, most of what she had to do was wave her arms around dramatically while the Jones boys did all their tricks. Occasionally she’d crack a whip in their general direction. It wasn’t exactly brain surgery, but, if Emma was being honest with herself, it was fun. The music, the lights, the getting to boss certain were-panthers around. Speaking of certain were-panthers…

Emma had acquired a shadow. Starting with that very first rehearsal where he’d sought her out behind the concession stand, Killian fell into a habit of just sort of following Emma around. Sometimes as a human, sometimes as a beast.

At least as a panther, he was quiet. In human form he was always trying to tease and banter with her (she wouldn’t let herself think the word flirting). Him, with his smirking lips and expressive eyes and that thing he did where his tongue traced the corner of his mouth. It made her feel… things. Things her freshly broken heart wasn’t ready for.

When she told him she preferred him as a cat, he shifted into animal form and butted his furry black head against her side until she scratched him behind the ears. He was surprisingly soft, actually, the silky strands of his coat slipping beneath her fingertips. Not to mention, it was pretty funny to watch the way his powerful jaws hung open, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head at her touch.

“Yeah, yeah. You better enjoy this, Jones. There’s no way in hell I'm giving you a belly rub.”

The bastard had the audacity to purr.

He’d picked up a couple of other habits as well. Like how at their second rehearsal he accidentally discovered Emma was ticklish and thereafter took every opportunity to flick the tip of his tail under her arm to make her jump. Or, well, he did it until Liam got annoyed and growled at him.

Or how now that she was comfortable with the act, he’d sometimes not do whatever trick he was supposed to do just to mess with her. Then he’d stare at her all innocent as if he were some dumb animal. As if. Of all the words she’d use to describe Killian Jones (funny, snarky, hot as all hell, her brain unhelpfully supplied), innocent was not one of them.

On Saturday, the day before her very first performance, Emma walked to the wardrobe trailer to pick up her finished costume for dress rehearsal. Killian, as usual, trotted along beside her in panther form. She decided finally, if he wouldn’t leave her alone, she might as well talk to him. Surely she could handle a little teasing from one pesky panther. She just needed to shore up her defenses a bit. God only knew she was good at that.

“Hey, stalker. Why exactly are you following me again?” He swished his tail at the back of her knee, and Emma yelped as goosebumps spread up her leg. She fixed him with her best scowl. “Is this why your last beast tamer quit?”

Killian shifted back to human again and continued walking beside her. “I’ll have you know our last beast tamer was Regina, and she quit because it got awkward when she and Liam started shagging. You ask me, he liked it a bit too much when she cracked the whip at him. They’d always run straight back to her trailer after a show.” He scrunched his nose in distaste, and Emma bit back a laugh. “The hilarious part is they both think they’re doing a stellar job of keeping it under wraps, but everyone knows.”

Emma gave him a wry smile.“So what I’m hearing is if I want to keep my job, I should never ever shag anyone in my act.”

That stopped him in his tracks. Killian’s mouth fell open like a codfish, and he had to jog a few steps to catch back up to her. “Hold on now, Swan. I never said that.”

Emma pressed her lips together trying to maintain a poker face. See? She could do the banter thing, too. “Mmhmm.”

Killian huffed. “Anyway, Regina’s working up a new act now. A sorceress duel between herself and a Norwegian lass we picked up a few weeks ago. Sort of a fire and ice thing.”

Emma stopped in front of the door to the wardrobe trailer, her eyes wide. “So, Regina is a witch! I knew it!”

Killian stood facing her and tilted his head. “I don’t think that’s her preferred terminology, but aye. Quite powerful. Her signature move is throwing fireballs.”

“Of course it is,” Emma deadpanned. “Hey, don’t you need to go get ready for dress rehearsal?”

Killian smirked in amusement and leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Swan, I am my own costume.”

Emma felt a blush rise on her face, flustered by her own faux pas, and certainly not because Killian was so near to her that his cheek brushed hers as he straightened his posture. She was a dumbass. Of course he was his own costume, but now the side of her face was probably all red and blotchy from the scratch of his stubble and she needed to get inside the trailer right now and put on her costume and fix her makeup and-

“See you later, Swan.”

While she’d been gawping like an idiot, Killian had turned to leave. Ugh, he just had to get the last word in, didn't he? Emma stood there scrabbling to come up with something snappy to say as she watched him walk away. Swaggering smirky-face with his stupid tight jeans. Sooner or later she’d figure out a way to shut him up.

--/-

“Hey! How’d the final rehearsal go? Did Killian ever pick his jaw back up off the floor?”

Exhausted after a long day, Emma staggered into her trailer wanting nothing more in life than to flop face first onto her bunk and pass out. Her roommates, apparently, had other ideas.

“Ruby…” Emma warned, but it lacked any real threat. Proper threatening required too much energy.

“Oh, don’t ‘Ruby’ me. You didn’t see him when you first walked in the tent in that costume. Granny really outdid herself. I could practically see the hearts shooting out of his eyeballs.”

Emma slumped onto her bed and tugged the elastic out of her ponytail. “That’s not exactly how I remember it.”

No, Emma remembered hiding behind the tent flap feeling self-conscious as all hell because her body had been poured into a getup that covered slightly less than a one-piece bathing suit. A really fancy bathing suit. Pitch black satin edged in feather-like swirls of beaded lace framed a blaze of creamy white down the middle of the front. Ruby’s Granny, the official seamstress and head cook for the circus, had truly outdone herself as Ruby said. As little as there was of it, Emma had never worn anything so beautiful.

She heard Killian call out, “Come on, Swan. Let’s get a look,” and begrudgingly complied, but kept her eyes down on the costume, tugging at where the corset-like bodice pinched her waist. She’d complained that the outfit felt like a sequined straight-jacket. He’d informed her cheekily that her discomfort was a cross he was willing to bear. She glared. He grinned. It was nothing more than their usual back-and-forth shtick.

“There were no heart eyes,” Emma concluded.

“Mmhm. You know wolves can smell pheromones, right?”

“You did not just say that.” Blood rushed in Emma’s ears and her cheeks burned and she wasn’t even sure if Ruby was talking about Killian’s pheromones or Emma’s and that somehow made it worse. Thankfully, Mulan came to her rescue.

“Must you alway be so crass?” Mulan scolded, but to little avail. Ruby grinned brightly and scrunched her nose at Mulan who took a seat beside her wayward roommate on the bunk opposite Emma’s with a long-suffering sigh. “Don’t mind her, Emma. But seriously, how did rehearsal go? Are you excited about your first show?”

“Yeah, I guess. Sure.” Excited was… one word for it. The reminder of tomorrow’s performance hit Emma like a bucket of ice water. When not two minutes ago, she’d been ready to sleep for days, now a buzz of nerves spread from the pit of her stomach to the tips of her fingers. A familiar tingle built up in her palms and she rubbed them against her thighs to make the feeling go away. Some people carried their stress in their shoulders or back, but for Emma it had always been her hands.

Sensing her unease, Mulan leaned across the narrow space between the bunks and placed a hand on Emma’s forearm. “Sure you’re okay?”

Emma looked between Ruby and Mulan’s concerned faces. This was new. This thing where people seemed to care how she was feeling. Who actually asked how she was doing. But from day one at the Circus, everyone had accepted her. No questions asked. Like, “Oh, you’re here. Good. We’ve been saving you a seat.”

It felt foreign and strange and Emma refused become accustomed to it. But it was kind of nice? Maybe it would be okay to have friends. Just for now.

Emma pressed her lips together and focused on her hands. “I’m not really used to being the center of attention, I guess. All those people in the audience staring at me kinda freaks me out. And what if-” Emma stopped herself, afraid to voice the fear that niggled at the back of her mind. After a beat, she looked up and saw nothing but genuine compassion in her roommates faces. “What if I screw the whole thing up? Would Regina kick me out for ruining her show?”

“Of course not!”

“Oh, honey, no.”

They both quickly reassured her. Ruby stood and pulled Emma to her feet. There wasn’t much space in the sleeping area of the trailer, so Ruby tugged on Emma’s hand to move her into the kitchenette. Mulan followed them.

“Here’s the secret: whatever screw ups happen -” Ruby shook her long dark hair back from her shoulders and gestured as broadly as the limited space allowed. “- you pretend like you did it on purpose and it’s part of the act. Watch this.”

Ruby grabbed a pair of oranges from a bowl on the counter and began to juggle them. Grinning, Mulan picked up a third orange and tossed it at Ruby. For about two seconds, it looked like Ruby would catch it and keep going, but she fumbled, tossing one orange into the air too soon so that all three were airborne at the same time. In the blink of an eye, Ruby threw out a now magically clawed hand and took a fierce swipe. Three sliced oranges fell to the table with a wet splatter.

“Ta-da!” Ruby beamed, gracefully flexing her now human-again fingers.

Mulan laughed lightly and reached for an orange slice, but Ruby’s party trick hadn’t convinced Emma. “That’s pretty cool and all, but what about those of us who can’t mutate into a fruit ninja?”

Ruby sat down at the tiny kitchen table and patted the seat next to her for Emma to join her. “No, no, no. The point is that if you’re gonna screw up, go big and really sell it.”

Mulan pushed herself up to sit on the counter, her feet dangling next to Ruby’s shoulder. “She’s right. The audience doesn’t know what you’re supposed to be doing, so as long as you look like you did it on purpose, they’ll never know the difference.”

Emma exhaled slowly. “I think I can work with that.”

“Besides,” Mulan added, “if you really screw up that badly, Regina can just put a memory spell on the whole crowd and they’ll think they watched the greatest show on earth.”

“Has that ever happened?”

Mulan kept her face completely impassive. “Not that I recall. But then I guess I wouldn’t, would I?”

Emma’s eyes widened in alarm.

“She’s joking.” Ruby reached back to flick Mulan on the knee. “You’re so deadpan. No one ever knows you’re joking.”

A small smile broke through on Mulan’s face and Emma finally relaxed enough to smile back. Mulan hopped down from the counter. “How about I make you some tea to help you sleep?”

Emma cocked an eyebrow at her. “This isn’t some kind of potion, is it?”

Mulan shook her head. “Nah. Just Sleepytime Tea. From a box with a bear wearing a nightcap on it.” She opened a drawer and scanned the contents. “But now that I’ve offered it, looks like I left the box in the main kitchen. I’ll run over to the cook house and get it. Ruby, you want anything else from over there?”

“Not unless you find the old lady’s liquor stash.”

Mulan rolled her eyes, but smiled at her friend. “Be right back, guys.”

Ruby’s eyes followed Mulan out the trailer door, and as it snicked shut a tiny sound like a hum escaped her lips. When Ruby finally turned around, Emma fixed her with a smirk. “What was that you were saying about pheromones again?”

For the first time in the week Emma had known her, Ruby Lucas actually blushed. “Oh, that’s nothing. Just a little crush.” She flicked her hand in front of her as if to wave the idea away.

“And here you were giving me grief about Killian Jones! So, what’s the deal with you two?”

Ruby sighed. “There’s no deal. Mulan’s still hung up on someone she was in love with before.” Her exaggerated pronunciation of that final word made it sound heavier somehow.

“What do you mean before?”

“Before she joined Le Cirque Noir. Everybody here, we’ve all got a before. Some tragic origin story. It’s why no one here judges. We’re all misfits and losers, but at least we’ve got each other. Just one big wacky family.”

Ruby offered her a grin that seemed to say, “...and it can be your family now, too.”

The words hung in the air between them. Emma’s hands tingled again and the feeling seemed to spread to her chest. This was dangerous ground. Families and homes - even as non-traditional as this one - those things were for other people. Not her. And yet no matter how hard she tried to pluck it out, the tingle in her chest became a tiny seedling of hope.

She couldn’t deal with that - didn’t want to anyway - so she shoved the feeling behind all of her usual defense mechanisms and redirected the conversation. “So what happened in Mulan’s before?”

“I don’t know all of it. You might’ve noticed, Mulan isn’t really one to talk about herself - kinda like someone else I know.” Ruby pointed raised an eyebrow at Emma. “Anyway, what I do know is that it involved her getting her heart broken and the woman she loved moving on without her. She isn’t ready to let go yet.”

Shit, that hit close to home. Redirect, redirect, redirect. “Is it hard to be friends with her when you…” Emma gestured vaguely “You know?”

Ruby shook her head, a self-deprecating smile curving her red lips. “Nah. Like I said, it’s just a little crush. I’m convinced that the girl of my dreams is still out there somewhere over the rainbow.”

--/--

Emma placed the last of about two dozen bobby pins holding the intricate crown braid together. Ruby had helped her plait her hair before heading off to the Big Top to make sure her Red Riding Hood costume was ready backstage. In Le Cirque Noir’s version of the story, Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf were one and the same. More of that shifter humor, apparently.

One more shot of hairspray, a tug at a loose bead on her bodice, one more coat of lipstick - Emma couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. Everything will be fine, she told herself for the thousandth time. Ruby and Mulan had been very reassuring before they left to warm up for their own acts, but still… Emma squeezed through the louvered doors of the tiny bathroom, and paced up and down the length of the trailer, hands waving through the air as she reviewed her routine in her head. A knock on her trailer door snapped her out of her downward spiral.

She opened the door and her mouth went dry, one foot sort of hovering half-way through a step it forgot to finish. She tried to say “hi”. Couldn’t think of the word “hi”. Could really only think two words on repeat: holy shit holy shit holy shit. Killian Jones stood on her front steps dressed in a long, black leather coat, blood red brocade vest and barely-buttoned black shirt. Half steampunk, half swashbuckler and completely devastating. He held a single long-stemmed rose in his hand and offered it to her with a courtly bow.

“You look stunning, Swan.”

Emma blinked a couple of times, finally managing to shake off her stupor. “You...look…”

“I know,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

“What happened to the whole, ‘I’m my own costume’ thing?” Emma stepped aside to allow him into the trailer. Emma accepted the rose and turned away from him to get a glass from the kitchen cabinet to use as a makeshift vase. Not at all because she needed a moment to collect herself.

“This-” Killian made a sweeping head to toe gesture once Emma faced him again “-is my costume for the grand entry parade. I’m a showman after all. Might as well dress the part.”

You could’ve warned me. “Well, it looks like you went all out.”

“As did you. The audience won’t be able to take their eyes off you, love.”

Emma looked off to the side, her earlier anxiety curling its tentacles around her lungs and squeezing. “That’s kind of what I’m afraid of, but um…” She met his eyes again. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Killian pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against, leading with his hips. He offered her his arm. “May I escort our newest star to her debut performance?”

It was such a cheesy thing to do, but his exaggerated chivalry helped to shake loose the grip of her nervousness. “If I say no, are you gonna follow me anyway?”

Killian’s eyes did that twinkly thing again and crinkled a little at the corners and it was all just completely unfair. “Aye. Probably.”

Emma laughed, finally feeling ready to face a Big Top full of spectators. She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Then lead on, Catboy.”

“As the lady wishes.”

--/--

Much to her surprise, Emma’s first performance went off without a hitch. All three Jones brothers hit their marks with practiced ease. Killian behaved himself, no headbutting or tail swishing at her. She didn’t drop her whip even once. And the crowd…

Emma had never experienced anything like it. People - hundreds of people - cheering for her. She’d heard about the allure of the spotlight and the roar of the crowd, but now that she’d actually lived it, the feeling was beyond anything she could have imagined holed up alone in her room at a group home. By the time the music went into its final chorus, Emma wished they could do an encore.

And so it went week after week. Emma settled in to the rhythm of the Circus: travel, rehearse, perform, repeat. Some nights the younger cast members stayed up late around a bonfire laughing and passing around a bottle of cheap wine. Other nights it was just Emma and her roommates trying to get a good enough wifi signal to stream Netflix. Everybody pitched in when there was work to be done. Everybody came together for dinner.

They bickered, as family does, with the occasional outright fight. Some combination of two or more of the seven dwarf brothers ended up pummelling one another at least once a week. Emma generally avoided the worst of the drama, but one night she’d seriously considered skinning Killian’s furry self alive and hanging his pelt on her wall.

It had started small - a few of his earlier panther shenanigans creeping into the actual show instead of keeping the nonsense to rehearsal. He’d refuse to do a trick here and there unless she tossed him a treat or petted his ears. It irritated her but she could handle it. So, of course he had to escalate.

For one entire performance, Killian did nothing but rub his head against her and roll around on the ground on his back at her feet until Regina stepped up to the microphone to play it off as part of the show. She asked the audience what they should do with this ferocious beast and they unanimously demanded that Emma rub his belly. Emma threatened him under her breath to use the whip for real, but he only looked up at her with those big, blue cat eyes and licked his chops. The audience went nuts over it. Emma seethed behind her brightly painted smile.

That is, until he showed up at her trailer the next morning with an apology and a box of bear claws.

“How did you know these were my favorite?”

Killian tilted his head, eyes wide with false innocence. The affectation reminded Emma so much of his panther-self, she nearly laughed. “A little birdy told me? Actually,” he continued, making himself at home at her kitchen table, “a little bird told Mary Margaret, who then told me.”

Emma sat down next to him and snatched a pastry from the box. “The bird-talker. Right. That’s… not creepy at all.”

“Creepy bird factor aside, am I forgiven, Swan?”

Emma bit into a bear claw, practically moaning at the sugary goodness. “You’re forgiven, Catboy,” she answered around a mouth full of food. “Just don’t do it again.”

--/--

Emma actually liked life at the Circus. She’d lived in tolerable places before. She would even go so far as to say she’d been happy once. With Neal, during their “Bonnie and Clyde” run before everything went to hell. Even then, though, the life itself wore on her. She knew they couldn’t keep going that way, sleeping in a car, showering at truck stops, eating burritos stolen  from a convenience store. She just thought when they decided to quit running, they’d settle down together.

Life at Le Cirque felt stable. Surprisingly normal considering the extremely not-normal circumstances. Only a month ago, the idea she could be some kind of freak terrified her, but now… now that she had gotten comfortable, a new fear started to creep in. What if she wasn’t?

Weeks turned into months, and no ‘latent abilities’ surfaced for Emma. Not a single sign of any powers whatsoever. It bothered her. Worried her. What would happen if she never got powers? If she turned out to be nothing more than a regular human?

“Emma!” Liam’s voice broke through her dark train of thought. “You missed the cue again.” He crossed the sawdust strewn ring to where she stood, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. Liam ducked down into her line of sight, encouraging Emma to meet his eyes. “Is everything alright, love? You look a bit peaky.”

Emma forced herself to drop her arms, and shook out her hands. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been clenching them. “I’m fine. Sorry. I just got distracted.”

Liam studied her for a moment, a worried frown marring his features. “Perhaps we’ve all had enough rehearsing for one morning. You run along, love. Besides, I believe Regina said she’d like a chat with you.”

Icy dread wrapped its fingers around Emma’s heart. This was it. She was about to get fired. Emma walked out of the tent on auto-pilot, not looking back when Killian called after her.

--/--

Killian found her eventually. He always managed to find her, but then again, this time she hadn’t exactly made it difficult.  

“I’m not sure about your choice of thinking places, Swan. Is there something about the smell of grease and burnt sugar that calms you?”

Several hours had passed since Liam had dismissed rehearsal, and Emma sat in the grass behind the snack bar, arms wrapped around her knees. “Did you seriously come back here to critique my hiding place?”

Killian sat down next to her, nudging her shoulder with his until she raised her head. “No. I came back here because I was worried about you. What did Regina want?”

“Magic lessons. She wants to give me magic lessons, or tried to, actually. We looked through books and incantations and magical objects and - did you know she speaks Elvish? Elvish! And nothing worked. I’m never gonna be able to do this. I don’t know why she even thinks I have magic.”

Killian pursed his lips, considering his answer. “Regina has been doing this for quite some time. Her instincts are usually correct.”

“I think her instinct by the end was to toss me off a cliff and see if I could poof myself a bridge.” Emma huffed. “She’d have been fine with either possible result.”

“Do you believe you have it?”

His gentle tone soothed some of the bitterness in her thoughts. Emma sighed heavily, dropping her head back onto her arms. “I don’t know. How could I possibly know that?”

“It tends to run in families?”

No point in hemming and hawing. Killian was a smart guy. The squeak in his voice when he asked the question told her he already knew the answer. “I don’t know anything about my family. Next.”

“Bitten by a radioactive spider?”

She actually heard him smirking that time. Emma turned her head enough to glare at him, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Nope. No spidey-sense. Next.”

“How about this: has anything unexplainable or overly coincidental happened to you when you were in a heightened emotional state?”

Emma raised her head fully, and narrowed her eyes at him. “Regina asked me that.”

“And?”

“There was this one time. It’s actually kind of why I’m here. I got into a bad situation and I almost got arrested. I was supposed to meet someone in a parking garage, but they didn’t show. They called the cops and tipped them off, so I’d get busted instead of them. So there I am in this garage with a stolen watch on my wrist and the cop has his gun pointed at me. But then the light above my head exploded and there were all these sparks. The cop looked away from me and lowered his gun to duck and I just ran.”

“How were you feeling when that happened?”

“How the hell do you think I was feeling? I was scared out of my mind!” And hurt and betrayed and...

“I don’t know much about how magic works, Swan, but I do know it’s rooted in emotions. It could’ve simply been a coincidence. Or, it could be that your fear in that moment caused the light to blow, thus giving you the chance to escape.”

“Great. So I need to be held at gunpoint to get my magic to work?” Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Maybe Regina really is going to push me off a cliff.”

“It needn’t be anything that dramatic.”

“So what are you going to do? Sneak up on me and yell ‘Boo’?”

“Tried that once and very nearly got myself stabbed for my trouble, so no thank you. However, it’s not a bad plan to try to provoke an emotional response.” He eyed her for a moment, his tongue tracing the edge of his teeth. “I can be quite provocative, you know.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but noticed her pulse had picked up a little bit. Was he sitting closer than before? “Oh, you provoke me alright.”

“Magic needn’t come from fear or anger. Perhaps I could stir up some other, more pleasurable feelings for you.” Killian reached a finger back to scratch behind his ear and smoothly traced it down his cheek to tap against his lips.

Was he actually suggesting-? “Please,” Emma scoffed, “You couldn’t handle it.” He was definitely closer now and definitely looking at her lips and maybe she didn’t mind that as much as she should.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

Oh, but no. This was her chance. To finally wipe that smug smirk off his face. To finally render Killian Jones speechless. Her pulse raced, her stomach fluttered, her eyes zeroed in on his tempting, teasing mouth and she pounced. Grabbing him by the front of the shirt, Emma hauled him to her, kissing the living hell out of him.

It took him the space of a heartbeat to realize what was happening, but as soon as he did, he joined in enthusiastically. A low gutteral sound of pleasure rumbled through his chest, and she could feel it more than hear it because of the way their bodies pressed together. She wasn’t sure how she’d ended up sort of in his lap, but she couldn’t find it in her to care because his stupid messy hair was so soft between her fingertips and his lips were just as warm and supple as they looked, and he was holding her so, so tightly as though he never wanted to let her go.

A quick break for air, their chests heaving in unison, and they dove back in. Swaying together, exploring each other, the rest of the world a distant memory. Somewhere inside her, something shifted into place. Emma felt lighter than air, as though the only thing keeping her grounded were Killian’s strong arms around her. Her skin hummed with energy. She was flying, she was glowing, she was… oh holy shit she was kissing Killian Jones!

Another break for air. Her lips chased his against her will, but she forced herself to pull back, keeping her face as neutral as possible.

Killian on the other hand… There was nothing neutral about him, with his eyes glazed, and his hair a dark riot from Emma’s fingers. His nose traced the curve of her cheek, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to lean back into him at the ragged sound of his voice. “That was…”

A terrible idea? The best idea ever? Everything? No. Dangerous is what it was. Emma cleared her throat and stood awkwardly.

“It didn’t work.” She held up one hand, wiggling her fingers in demonstration.”Still no magic. Now come on, we need to get back to rehearsal.”

Emma walked away without looking back. She couldn’t bear to see him so beautifully wrecked. Couldn’t bear the thought that she might look the same. But, as usual, he caught up to her. “You know, love, one of these days I’m going to stop chasing after you.”

Though the admonishment lacked any real heat, Emma’s heart stuttered. She drew up short, but before she could form a response, Leroy, one seventh of the dwarf acrobatic squad and part-time handyman, stomped up to them.

“If you’re headed back to the Big Top, sister, don’t bother. All practices are cancelled for this afternoon.”

“Why?” Emma asked.

“I’ve gotta go fix the breaker box. There was some kind of weird power surge a few minutes ago. Didn’t you guys see the lights flicker? It happened all over the whole lot.”

Stunned speechless, Emma merely nodded her acknowledgement at the man. Meanwhile, Killian was grinning at her like the were-panther who ate the canary.

“Still think it didn’t work, Swan?”

Emma couldn’t think, couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. She needed to get away. To be alone for a while to process. “I'm going back to my trailer. Don’t follow me.”

For a guy who just a second ago was bursting with smugness, there was a striking note of longing in his voice when he answered, “As you wish.”

--/--

It couldn’t be. For so, so very many reasons, it couldn’t be. The power surge couldn’t have been her. And it sure as hell couldn’t have been because she was kissing Killian. Because that would mean…

No. It’d less than a dozen weeks since Neal. She couldn’t be developing feelings for someone else so soon. Shouldn’t be having feelings for anyone at all. Hadn’t she learned anything? Her brain kept telling her to get a grip. Shore up her defenses. Her heart though - all it wanted to do was beat next to Killian’s.

Emma couldn’t sleep that night. Every pop and creak in the darkness of her trailer, every light that flickered through her window - it made her wonder. She felt like hell the next morning and barely even had to fake illness to convince Regina she couldn’t rehearse or attempt any more magic that morning. Blessedly Ruby and Mulan backed her story. She knew her roommates heard her tossing and turning all night, and god knows the entire cast had seen the power surge the day before, but they didn’t press her for information. They just snuck her some breakfast from the cook house, and told her they’d check on her at lunch. The idea that she had real friends in her corner, well… that messed with her insides as much as anything else.

When she emerged the that afternoon, twenty four hours post-kiss, she found Killian sitting outside her trailer to greet her. Sleek and whiskery and right by her side as always. He didn’t shift into human form and try to talk to her. He just nuzzled her hand and looked up at her with glowing eyes that seemed to say, “I was worried about you.”

Emma told herself things could and should go back to normal. She tried over the next few days to act as though nothing had happened. That was what she wanted, right? If she could get her head on straight where Killian Jones was concerned, then maybe - maybe she could get a handle on the whole magic thing. So why did her freaking heart have to flutter every time she looked at him?

Pretending wasn’t cutting it. The situation required full-on avoidance.They needed to work together for the act, but outside of performances and rehearsals, Emma did as much as possible to lose her ever-present feline shadow.  

“Swan, the Circus grounds aren’t very large, you can’t keep avoiding me forever.”

Emma kept walking. “I’m not avoiding you. I’m just dealing with stuff.”

“Right. Of course. Go ahead. Don’t tell me you’re not avoiding me anymore because I’m actually quite perceptive and this-” he gestured between them “-this is avoiding me.”

“Killian, I’m not in the mood.”

He caught her arm, spinning her to face him. “Look, if this is about the kiss-”

“That’s what you think this is about?” Emma interrupted, shrugging her arm out of his grasp.

“Is that not what it’s about? Swan that kiss meant something to me and if you’re honest with yourself, I believe it meant something to you, too. But I don’t expect anything from you. I won’t press the issue. There’s no reason we can’t even bloody talk to each other. We have to work together, love. At some point you have to trust me.”

“Trust is… not really my thing.”

“And why is that?’

“Because everyone I’ve ever cared about has left me behind! My parents, foster families, the guy I-” Emma froze. She hadn’t meant to mention him. She hadn’t meant to say any of this.

Killian nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. “And the guy, eh? I’m assuming this would be the person who was supposed to meet you in the parking garage.” Emma looked down at her boots and that apparently was confirmation enough. “Did you love him?”

“Killian…”

“Humor me.”

She snapped her eyes up to meet his. “Yes. I loved him. And I got my heart broken. That enough humor for you?” Emma kept her voice completely flat and finished with a sarcastic smile.

His whole demeanor softened. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re glad to hear I had my heart broken?”

“If it can be broken, it means it still works.”

The heartbreaking gentleness in his face and voice knocked something loose inside of her. Emma opened her mouth but no words came out. No clever retort. God, how did she get here? He’s right. On some level she knew he was right, or at the very least he’s not wrong. For all she’s been through in her seventeen years on this earth, she can’t quite kill the hope inside her that home does exist. That there are people she can trust. That she can find someone to… But no. What if she was wrong about him? About all of this? She can’t - won’t take that chance.

She didn’t belong here. She couldn’t make her magic work, if she had any to begin with. She needed to get the hell away from Killian Jones and his eyes that could see right through her, no matter how loudly her heart was shouting at her to stay. What did it know?

Thankfully at that moment, Mulan walked up to them. “Emma. There you are. Regina’s looking for you. She said she found some new spell book she wants you to try.”

With a heavy heart and a tight-lipped smile at Killian, Emma walked away.

That night as she lay in her bunk, Emma made up her mind. She’d been here too long. She was getting too attached. All of Regina’s attempts to coax her magic out had failed, and it was only a matter of time before Regina gave up on her. Tomorrow night was a full moon. When Ruby went out for her run through the woods and Mulan went to sleep, Emma would leave Le Cirque Noir.

--/--

Packing didn’t take long. All Emma’s worldly possessions consisted of one sad little backpack and an old cigar box with a few keepsakes. She knew she was a coward for sneaking out, but it was less messy this way. No goodbyes. More importantly, no one to try to talk her out of it, and she really, really couldn’t handle someone trying to talk her out of it.

“Swan, where are you going.”

Emma nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. “Geez Killian, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing out here this late?

“Couldn’t sleep.” His smile was tight and didn’t reach his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Emma tightened her grip on the strap of her backpack and tried fruitlessly to keep her tone casual. “I was just looking for Ruby.”

Killian narrowed his eyes as he approached her. “No. No, that’s not it. It’s a full moon tonight, Ruby’s probably out in the woods hunting rabbits right now.” He stopped right in front of her. “I know you’re new to this shifter business, but even you know better than to go traipsing off after a werewolf on a full moon. You’re running away.”

Emma planted her hands on her hips. “So what if I am?”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“I don’t want to talk to you about this.” Emma shook her head and moved to walk around him, but Killian kept talking.

“Think of what you’re leaving behind, Swan. Your family-”

That got her attention. Emma whipped her head around. “I don’t have a family.”

“That’s nonsense and you know it. You keep trying to run. What are you looking for?”

“Home.”

“This is your home, Swan. Here. With all of the people who-” She saw a flicker of hesitation cross his features before he finished the thought. “- who love you.”

God, it was all there. Everything she was afraid to face was right there looking her in the eyes. He held himself back from her, but she could see every emotion coursing through him in every clench of his jaw, every twitch of his dark brows. How could he do that? Open himself up like that? Look at her like- like-

Emma scoffed. “Look around Killian. I don’t belong here. I don’t see my family. I see fairy tales. I see magic and monsters and everything wonderful and special and it’s just… it’s not me. I’m not special. My magic - if I’ve really even got it - doesn’t work! I was never a part of this.”

“Then what are you a part of?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been a part of anything. I’m just a lost girl who never mattered. I always get left behind sooner or later.”

“So you run away before you can be left behind again. You’d rather leave everyone else behind. Don’t you even care about - about anyone here?”

“Of course I care. But I have to do what’s right for me and-”

The report of a shotgun pierced the night followed by a howl of agony. Emma and Killian’s eyes locked, their argument forgotten.

“Ruby!”

Even without a shifter’s enhanced hearing, Emma clearly made out the pitiful yelps and followed the sound into the trees. The sounds grew steadily louder until they crashed through the underbrush into a clearing to find an unnaturally large wolf with silvery eyes sprawled on its side. Blood matted Ruby’s dark, shaggy fur and her breaths came in shallow pants. Her cries of pain weakened into helpless whimpers, but as she caught sight of Emma and Killian she gave a whining cry of acknowledgement.

Emma knelt on the ground beside her friend and lifted Ruby’s head into her lap. “It’s okay,” she whispered, “It’s going to be okay.” But the words sounded hollow even to her own ears. Nothing about this was okay. Terror gripped Emma’s heart. Her friend - God, one of the only friends she’d ever had - was dying right in front of her and there wasn’t anything Emma could do about it.

Emma looked to Killian, her eyes pleading with him for a better answer than what she knew he could give. “You’re sure she can’t just shift and heal herself?”

He gave a small shake of his head. “It doesn’t work that way. Maybe if I shift, the panther would be strong enough to drag her back to the Circus lot?”

Emma surveyed Ruby’s broken body, tears pricking at her eyes. “I don’t think she’d survive the trip.”

Killian nodded. “You’re right. I’ll call Regina.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, glanced once at the screen then dropped it on the ground, growling with frustration. “No bloody cell signal out here.” He scrubbed a hand down his face and took a deep breath. “Alright Swan, it has to be you and it has to be now.”

“It has to be me what?” He wasn’t making any sense or maybe Emma just hadn’t heard him right over the rush of blood in her ears.

“You have to try to heal her. It’s her only chance.”

“But I don’t - I can’t-”

“You can, Swan. You have magic. You know you do. Stop running away from who you are. Think about how much you care about her, or how scared you are or - bloody hell, how angry you are at me! Whatever you have to do. Find that emotion and use it to save her.”

His eyes bored into hers and Emma couldn’t look away. The intensity of his gaze - no, the intensity of his belief in her grounded her. Broke through the haze of panic. He offered her his hand and she grabbed onto it like a lifeline.

“Now focus. You can do this, Emma.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Reaching deep within herself, Emma opened the floodgates of her guarded heart and allowed herself to feel how much she cherished Ruby’s friendship, how much she would miss her if she lost her, how much she’d miss everyone she had been planning to leave behind only an hour ago. You don’t have a home until you just miss it.

In that moment she knew. She had a home. She had a family. With that knowledge came a spark. A white-hot point of light, and Emma held onto it, pulled it up, up to the surface until it spread across her skin, accumulating in her palms and the tips of her fingers. A surging, radiating force just waiting to break free because a member of her family was dying and she’d be damned if she was going to let that happen.

Emma’s eyes sprang open and the first thing she saw was Killian’s face, a look of absolute awe across his handsome features. “What?” she murmured, a self-conscious smile tugging at her lips.

He bobbed his head in the direction of her lap. “Look down.”

Emma looked to find her hands glowing. Actually, literally glowing with bright white swirls of magic. She’d never wielded it before, not intentionally anyway, but some instinctive part of her knew exactly what to do.

“Killian, trade me places.”

He complied immediately, taking Ruby’s head into his lap and placing a hand on her shoulder to hold her steady. Emma took his place at Ruby’s back and extended both hands, fingers spread and palms down over Ruby’s side. The glow from her hands grew in intensity until it was nearly blinding. Emma had to close her eyes against the glare, but it didn’t matter. Some sense she never knew she possessed could feel the buckshot lifting from the wounds, the bone and flesh and fur knitting itself back together again, the blood returning to vital organs.

As suddenly as it had come, the light from her hands vanished. A loud yelp was the only warning Emma got before she found herself flat on her back on the ground, a paw larger than a human hand pinning her chest and a big, wet, rasping tongue licking her face.

“EW!” Emma squealed, giggling with relief. “Get off, ya mutt! You have dog breath!”

Ruby bared her wolfish teeth in something that looked (if a bit disturbingly) like a smile, and retracted her paw so Emma could sit up. She shook out her coat, rose onto her hind legs and shifted into a very much alive and whole human. She offered Emma a hand to get up from the ground and as soon as she was standing, pulled her into a bone crushing hug that Emma was more than happy to return.

“Look who’s a witch after all!”

“I guess I am.” Emma discreetly swiped a thumb under her eye before leaning back where Ruby could see her face.

“The bitch and the witch. Sounds like a pretty good band name.”

Emma laughed and shook her head, too relieved that her friend was okay to even bother with a sarcastic response or eye roll.

Killian hung back to give the girls their space, but Ruby waved him over and as soon as he was within reach, pulled him into a hug as well.

“Thank you. Thank both of you,” she said when she finally released the two of them from her death grip. “I was so focused on the prey I was chasing that I didn’t even smell that poacher.”

“We’re just glad you’re alright, Red,” Killian answered. “But if you’re feeling like some gratitude is in order, I know you know where Granny hides an extra pie. I certainly wouldn’t turn that down.”

“Done.” Ruby spun on her heel and headed out in the direction of the Circus lot with Killian following her, but Emma hesitated.

“Um, Ruby? Can we catch up with you in a minute?”

Emma was such a stew of emotions in that moment, that she didn’t even scowl at Ruby’s lascivious smirk. “Oh, take your time, honey.”

Ruby disappeared from their line of sight and Killian took a step closer to Emma. “If it’s privacy you're looking for, you know she can still hear us. Wolf senses and all that.”

“Oh I know. I’m fully expecting the third degree when I get back to the trailer later.”

“Back to the…” Killian tilted his head in bemusement. “Hold on, are you actually staying?”

“Why did you think I wanted to talk to you?”

“I assumed you were simply saying goodbye.”

“I do have something I want to say, but it isn’t goodbye.” Emma took a step toward him. “I want to thank you, Killian. For believing in me. No one has ever really done that before.”

He smiled broadly. “You’re a bloody hero, Swan. A marvel. Believing in you is as easy as breathing.”

Blushing, Emma glanced away needing a respite from the earnestness in his eyes. “I wanted to say something else, too.”

“Aye, what is it?”

“That you were right.”

“Well, a man loves to hear that, darling, but what exactly was I right about?” Some of his customary swagger had returned as he stepped closer.

“That this is my home. This Circus, these people.” One more step and they were toe to toe. Emma lightly rested her hands on his chest, feeling the wild beat of his heart beneath her hand. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she looked up into his face, his expression so full of hope and promise, and she wasn’t afraid anymore. “You.”

He searched her eyes even as his hands found her waist, gripping there as if convinced she would try to run again. “You really are staying.”

Emma smiled and curled her hands around the lapels of his jacket. “I really am staying.”

“Then allow me to be the first to say, welcome home, Swan.” Or, at least that’s what she thought he was trying to say. Impatient half-way through the sentence, Emma hauled his mouth to hers and the last few words had been little more than a murmur against her lips.

Her hands found their way under his jacket and around his back, his tangled into her hair cradling the back of her neck. They swayed together in the moonlight as with each brush of lips and tongue the kiss grew deeper and sweeter. Determined and slow and steady as the stars shining down on them in the clearing.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Emma knew that eventually they would have to stop. To go back and join the others, probably to the soundtrack of a few catcalls and wolf whistles when they showed up in the cook house hand-in-hand. But right now she couldn’t bring herself to care. Right now everything was perfect and right and good. Emma Swan had finally found her home.

End Notes: I have never done a magic AU before so this was a little outside my comfort zone, but it was so much fun to write! If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading. I'd love to hear what you think! I have a multitude of headcanons about this 'verse.  Hit me up if you'd like to hear about anything. Please be sure to check out all the fantastic stories and artwork in this year's CSLB. That's what I'm doing right now ;-) 

[frostyendeavors]

The Smile of Serendipity

Thomas and I became virtual friends on April 6, 2019 but we haven’t spoken to each other until August 4 of the same year.

I didn’t know it back then but I was in the Halfway state when I found out about his existence; a struggling barista hiding a mentally and emotionally abusive relationship behind smiles and laughs. During that time, my goal was to simply find new contents on my social media feed because I was getting bored of it so I randomly added some peeps from my People You May Know list. There were no criteria at all; I’ll just add ten new people, I thought.

I’d be lying if I say that he didn’t catch my attention that way. The way he smiled behind a soccer net while wearing his ROTC uniform was as adorable and mesmerizing as a lion cub stuck in the middle of being cute and fierce. There was something at his smile that made me stare for a minute or two at my phone, thought thoroughly if I’d break my own rules and let my practice on discipline start the following day, before I pressed the Add Friend button and ran back to our back office since my fifteen-minute break was up and I had to put my apron back on.

Lady Luck must’ve been smiling at me back then.

After my shift that day, I fished my phone and earphones from my bag so that I wouldn’t have to walk lifelessly from our store to the bus stop. My eyes widen as I saw the names of the three people who accepted the friend request from this weirdo and one of them was the eleventh from the list: the lion cub. The sweet caress of euphoria danced all over my body as I stare at the words Thomas accepted your friend request. I smiled and bit my lips to stop them from going too wide; if my co-baristas see me smiling like that, they wouldn’t let me go that easily.

I took a deep breath, hit shuffle play on my playlist of Taylor Swift albums, unfriended the other two strangers, and walked like a kindergartner who received a chocolate from his crush while the lyrics of Everything Has Changed became the ballad of the moment.

The next thing I knew, my feed was filled with memes ranging from witty-and-funny educational stuff to wacky anime contents. Most of them were hilarious while some needed a little bit of research before I got the point. I had to battle with myself to whether I’d react on his chain of memes or not but I let the pessimistic side of me win in hopes of not being branded as the creepy new friend who’s suddenly his solid reactor.

The following months were lighter than it should’ve been despite the daily torture I used to sugarcoat with hopefulness.

For starters, my job was at Manila but I live and study at my home province which is a good two to four hours of bus travel away.

The worst shift that could be given to me is the closing shift. I have to serve people for nine hours, inclusive of two fifteen-minute breaks and a one-hour break, and clean the whole store and every single equipment before we could lock our glass doors. We’d lucky if we were able to close the store at exactly 1:30 AM. On hard days, we’d usually close around 2:30 AM because we had too many customers and the cleaning procedure was delayed. 

Don’t get me wrong; I loved and enjoyed my barista life. The part that I don’t like pretty much is what happens after closing the store.

We have to walk for around fifteen minutes from our store to the bus stop since taxis are too pricey and there are usually no jeepneys available that would take us to there. My co-baristas live in Manila so going home is easier for them. As for me, I had to catch the last bus en route to my province around 2:00 AM. If the luxury of fortune is not in my pocket, I’d have to wait for the next bus for around an hour or two. The worse part is that my first class starts at 7:00 AM and I can’t go there straight away because I have to take a bath and wear school uniform. If that is not stressing enough, the cherry on top of the sundae is going home to a (now ex-) boyfriend who just woke up and in amidst of throwing a wild tantrum because he’s hungry and mad because apparently I didn’t have the time to pick up anything on my way home for his breakfast.

Yeah, Paris and I used to live together. Fortunately for me as someone who is distant from his family, I have our house for my own; my mom is living at my sister’s house and my brother has his own place as well. If I had to live with both Paris and mom, I’m not sure how I would survive.

Eventually, I had to quit from my beloved barista life because there are no nearby stores from my house with a staff opening. I ended up being an essay writer for international students for a few months before becoming the call center I am right now.

Now, where did Thomas fit in this timeline? Everywhere.

When I finished my part on the daily cleaning procedure too early and I have to wait for my co-baristas to finish theirs.

While I’m waiting for the bus at the bus stop for hours.

During the whole trip on the bus because falling asleep is considered as a risky sin.

When I got home to my obnoxious ex so I sit for a few minutes on the toilet before taking a shower.

When I’m on my way to school or work.

When it’s my fifteen-minute break and my ex is starting a weird fight out of nowhere so I end up lighting up a cigarette while taking sips of my coffee.

When my family is too naggy and forceful about things they consider as right without any consideration to what I feel about it.

In every single moment that I find myself barely hanging on life.

Eventually, Thomas and I got close. We hang out a few times when I was in dire need of a break from a stressing work, exhausting academe, and an ex who was extremely difficult to deal with. He was my adorable happy crush and enthusiastic food buddy.

After a few more months of destructive tantrums, empty promises, and sharp words, I broke up with Paris and asked him to move out.

In a perfect world, where everyone accepts, respects, and tries to understand the wide variety of ideologies of other people, not a single soul would ask me one of the most intriguing questions ever thrown at me: isn’t that borderline cheating?

My answer was plain, simple, and paired with a genuine smile: No.

Whenever I find myself barely clinging to the idea of life because the world is too much to bear, I’d always get my phone and go to his profile. I’d either check for new memes or just look at his pictures. I would spend most of my spare time laughing on or researching about his memes. If given the opportunity, Thomas and I would meet up and eat.  Everything was platonic for me that time; I wasn’t talking to him so we’d be romantically attached to each other. Never did I think of doing anything that would make him feel that I was into him in a more affectionate way either. I made it very clear, with a long typewritten letter and a funny evening call, that he was indeed my happy crush and explained that my clinginess is something that resonates from me normally.

It’s something I could’ve done with anyone I wanted to. It’s just that my friends are either too young not have curfews or busy with graduation stuff back then. Thomas was all I ever had and was more than what I needed.

Despite all the time and efforts I’ve given Thomas, before and after we had any form of interaction, I never considered it as cheating because my intentions couldn’t be any clearer. I was only doing myself a favor and giving the one thing I needed most:

saving.

If it wasn’t for Thomas, I might not be chasing any dreams and goals anymore. There might not be a call center agent who’s trying his best to do what he loves even if it means starting his academe all over again for the fourth time. I might not be walking in the streets of Manila with a wide smile on my face even after a long and tiring day from work and school.

If it wasn’t for Thomas, I might not be here right now.

Paris and I were completely and officially over when I voluntarily let myself fall for Thomas. There were a lot of things holding me back but I threw them away and dived deeper into this risky serendipity because there was something that’s engulfing my instincts, telling me that he is someone I’ve waited for a very long time; the one who truly deserves what I have to offer.

I’m pretty sure it was definitely his smile.

[fayecallasdatingblog]

Is Online Dating Safe? 14 Tips For Safely Finding Love Online

If you’re new to dating again after a divorce or breakup, your friends are probably pushing you to go online to find a man. But you wonder: is online dating safe? Is it something you should explore…or stay away from?

Maybe you’ve heard horror hookup stories about Tinder…

Or about a friend of a friend who met nothing but losers on dating apps…

Or simply are intimidated by the prospect of talking to a man online and then meeting him face to face.

Whatever your hangups about dating apps and sites, I want to help you navigate the world of online dating without fear for your safety.

The Lowdown on Online Dating and Dating Apps

In general, dating apps and sites are perfectly safe, though of course there are exceptions (PLEASE don’t Google them. They will freak you out). They are just another channel to connect single people, just like a bar or a singles group.

The key is to be conscious of what you’re doing, both when you text a new guy and when you meet him in person. After all, you don’t know this man! Put your safety first!

At the start, you may feel like a fish out of water, but after talking to or even dating a few men you meet on dating apps, you’ll learn to look for certain signs that tell you that the dude is a good one.

Why You Should Consider Online Dating

A lot of women in their 40s or older find it harder to meet a man at this point in their lives. In college, men were everywhere. Now you may only interact with men at work (and you’re not going there) or in line waiting for your coffee. You feel like all the good ones are already taken.

If meeting a man the natural way is a challenge, you absolutely should try online dating…though realize that it’s just ONE tool in your toolkit for finding love. Yes, try online dating, but also go to singles events…ask your friends to set you up…do it all!

After all…what have you got to lose?

Is Online Dating Safe? It Is if You Follow These Safety Tips

Online dating can be really wonderful…if you keep safety tips in mind.

Your safety should be a priority. I don’t care how hot a man’s photos are online. He may not even be that guy (that’s essentially what catfishing is: someone posting photos that aren’t him and then lying about who he is). You have to go into online dating with a bit of skepticism, if only to ensure that you don’t end up with a bad — or even dangerous — guy.

I’m not trying to scare you, but I don’t want you to be naive in thinking that every man you meet through dating apps will be honest. So to answer the question, is online dating safe: it absolutely is…when you take certain precautions.

1. Stick to Quality Sites

Not all dating sites are created equal. Some put more focus on keeping you safe. Bumble, Tinder, Match, eHarmony, and a handful of others are reputable sites, and many have measures to prevent catfishing, though they’re not always foolproof. I’ve heard from many women I’ve coached that these sites tend to have higher-quality men, probably because they charge for their services.

Free sites like Badoo and Zoosk have a much higher instance of fake profiles. Don’t waste your time.

2. Learn the Signs of a Catfisher

via GIPHY

It’s crazy: more than half of online daters have seen dating profiles where they think the person lied about one thing or another. Sometimes these are small lies, like their age or height, but sometimes they are full-blown catfishing. They may steal someone else’s photo or completely make up a persona. Why? There are different theories. Sometimes catfishers are bored or lonely. Sometimes they’re too insecure to date as themselves and so they pretend to be someone else. Look for these signs that you might be the victim of catfishing.

He’s quick to be affectionate, though may not ask many questions about you. He texts several times a day and always asks how you are. He makes you feel good because, hey, this guy really likes you! And yet…he really hasn’t bothered to find anything out about your personality or history. I’m not saying a good man can’t fall for you quickly, but just go slowly until you meet him and get to know him.

He’s got his whole backstory down pat, and there’s usually some trauma there. I know a woman who talked to a man who, in the first five texts, told her that both his parents had died when he was little. I mean, it might be true, but is that really something you’d come out with so early in the game? In this case, he was looking for her sympathy to hook her.

He wants to get off the dating app and get your number. Probably because if you realize he’s catfishing you, you’ll report his profile!

He can’t talk on the phone. Naturally, if you’re dating someone, you want to talk to them. But this man always has an excuse. He can’t talk at work. His battery is dying. He’s at his mom’s house. After a few excuses, realize there’s something more going on.

He drags his feet to meet you. He’s all about texting you 24/7, but even after a few weeks, he’s not asking you out. Then you ask him out…and it’s one excuse after another. A lot of times, catfishers will claim to be deployed overseas, which makes it convenient, since they can’t meet for coffee.

He doesn’t have photos of his face on his profile. I advise women to never, ever start chatting with a man who won’t show his photos on his dating profile. He’s hiding something. Either he’s not who he says he is, or he’s married and doesn’t want to be caught.

3. Learn How to Reverse Image Search

Here’s a tricky little tool to see if you can find more photos of this guy to make sure he is who he says he is. Right click his photo on a dating site or screenshot it. On Google.com, click the camera icon in the search bar and upload the photo from his profile. If he’s used that photo anywhere else, it will appear in search results. You might find his Facebook page or other dating profile.

You’re looking to make sure that his image is on profiles with the name he’s given you! I know a woman who did this from a dating app for a man who said he was named Stefano, Italian, living in California. The search revealed that he was not Italian, his name was Pete, and he lived in Ohio! The guy didn’t even know that someone had stolen his photo to use on dating sites as a catfish. This trick can reveal a lot!

4. Do a Little Investigating

Is online dating safe? It is if you’re a super sleuth!

Is online dating safe? The more you know, the safer it is. I’m not saying you have to go all stalker on the guy, but Google his name and see what comes up. If there’s a warrant out for his arrest, block him!

Just be careful: it’s easy to get pulled down the rabbit hole here. You Google him and he turns out to be legit…so you start clicking on links and social profiles. In 10 minutes, you know far more about this guy than he’s actually told you. This can be a problem if you mention his recent sailboat race win…and he asks how in the heck you knew about it. Awkward….

5. Take Your Time Before Agreeing to a First Date

There’s not a lot to be gained by agreeing to go out with a man you’re chatting with through a dating app within a day or two of virtually meeting, and the more time you take before you meet, the more you can get to know him and be assured that he won’t chop you in a thousand pieces on that date. I kid!…mostly.

If he’s genuinely interested in you (and not just looking for a hookup), he’ll be patient and agree to wait to meet. If he asks within the first few minutes of texting whether you want to meet…and it’s 9 pm…he’s probably just looking for one thing.

You need to be comfortable with this man before meeting him. Talking just builds the relationship, so talk for several days or even weeks before you meet him.

6. Talk on the Phone Before a Date

I can’t really explain why talking on the phone can give you reassurance that he’s not a creep…but it’s true. In this era of texting, it takes a little commitment to agree to actually talk on the phone, so if he agrees (or even suggests it), it’s a good sign that he’s really interested in you.

Also, it’s hard to get to know someone via text. Even if you voice-to-text it, you have a delay between your question and his response. A phone conversation allows you to dive deeper into those getting-to-know-you questions and lets you see what kind of chemistry you have in conversation.

And I guess if he sounds like a complete weirdo…you can then block him and not worry about it.

Another of my female coaching clients moved from the dating app to a phone call, and the man sounded like he’d drunk 10 cups of coffee (or was on speed). Within five minutes, he told her he’d been diagnosed with mania…then asked her to meet up that night. She found an excuse to get off the phone…and blocked him.

7. When You Do Meet, Make it a Public Place

A coffee date is the perfect way to meet a guy for the first time.

“Come over to my house, baby,” he purrs, “I’ll cook you dinner.”

As sexy as a man who cooks is…you don’t need to accept this invitation for the first time you meet someone. The man should understand your need to feel safe. Choose a restaurant or bar. Make it a place you’re familiar with. Park under a street light if it’s night time.

DON’T meet at his house or anywhere remote. And if he tries to bully you into doing it, realize that this guy does not have good intentions!

8. Tell Your Friend Where You’re Going

Is online dating safe?  The jury’s still out, but if you take precautions like telling a friend where you’re meeting this guy, you pretty much eliminate most of the risk.

Let one or more friends know where you’ll be, and at what time. You may even tell them to text you to check in…or ask them to send a fake emergency text if things aren’t going well!

I know some women who even download an app that will keep up with the location of their friend’s phone in case something goes wrong. You can’t be too cautious!

9. Read His Profile Carefully

Not all men fill out their online dating profiles thoroughly, but many do. Keep an eye out for any red flags you might otherwise miss if you focus on his handsome photos:

“Just want a hookup”

“In a polyamorous relationship” 

“H/U only”

“The wife and I are looking for a third!”

You probably want to move on from these profiles (though, you might not. No judgment!). It pays to read!

10. Plan for the Date to be Short

“Look at the time! I’ve got to go!”

Meeting for coffee is a great first date, and should only last an hour or two. If you’re uncomfortable or don’t like the guy, you can make an excuse to leave. If you do have a good time, extend the date to dinner!

You could even tell him before the date that you have an appointment a couple of hours after the date. If you feel bad about lying, make plans with a friend to do a post-date dish so you actually do have plans. And even if the date goes well, being slightly unavailable will make him want you more!

11. Ask the Right Questions

It may seem silly, but even asking “have you ever been married” can lead to some interesting answers. Some men (certainly not all) will be completely open. They may even admit that they’re married…in which case you have the chance to get out before you get involved in a bad situation.

Scary but true: at least 30% of Tinder users are married! Some will openly admit it in their profiles (and some women are even into being the mistress). Others may admit it once they meet you, hoping you’ll understand. Still others will try to keep it under wraps permanently, so put on your Super Sleuth hat and do some investigating if you’re concerned that he might be keeping something from you.

And asking what he’s looking for before you meet can help you find out if he’s just looking for a hookup so you don’t waste your time.

12. Use Photos You Don’t Use Anywhere Else

Just like you can do that reverse image search on him, so can he do it on your photos. If your dating profile pics are the same ones you use on social media, he can easily find out a lot of information about you. Not cool.

Use a photo that you haven’t used anywhere online to keep your data safe.

13. Don’t Let Him Pick You Up on the First Date

You have no idea if you’re going to want to go on a second date, so why would you let this guy know where you live before you’ve met him? Even if he’s trying to be chivalrous, tell him that you’ll meet him at the venue. That way you aren’t relying on him for a ride home if you’re ready to go home…and you know you’ll get home safely.

14. Trust Your Gut

If he gives you the creeps by telling you he loves you after texting you for two days…block him.

If you meet him and he can’t stop staring at your breasts…run away.

If he asks for money…report him on the dating app.

(That’s a thing, by the way. All dating apps have an option to report and/or block a guy. You can specify that he’s not who he says he is, that he’s being vulgar or inappropriate, etc. Use that feature so that other women don’t end up being annoyed by the same man!)

Your instinct will tell you if you’re talking to a man who is not worthy of you. Listen to it. Even if your first online dating experience isn’t what you hoped for — whether you didn’t click or he turned out to be an utter d-bag — realize that the more effort you put into dating online, the better the results you’ll get. And I promise: there are some really great guys on dating apps! You’ll find one!

After all, 8% of people who are married or in serious relationships met online, and that number is growing every day!

Conclusion:

You can have a lot of fun on dating apps if you let yourself!

If you’re serious about meeting Mr. Right, you greatly increase your odds of meeting him sooner by doing everything you can to meet more single men. Commit to it like a part-time job. Sign up for meetups (if nothing else, you’ll meet other people who understand what it’s like to be out there dating). Go to bars and restaurants with friends. Go to parties where you don’t know everyone. See who your friends know.

And yes, try online dating.

It may be scary at first. After all, the last time you were single, dating apps didn’t exist. Your only option was meeting someone in person. But look at dating apps as a benefit: they can connect you to really cool people you wouldn’t otherwise run into.

Talk to me. Have you tried dating apps? Do you have any success stories…or laughable moments? Share them in the comments below!

Flirting will be your #1 secret weapon in the world of online dating. Sign up for my exclusive Flirting Workshop to from Meet Positives SM Feed https://sexyconfidence.com/is-online-dating-safe/ via IFTTT

[travisandersondatingblog]

Is Online Dating Safe? 14 Tips For Safely Finding Love Online

If you’re new to dating again after a divorce or breakup, your friends are probably pushing you to go online to find a man. But you wonder: is online dating safe? Is it something you should explore…or stay away from?

Maybe you’ve heard horror hookup stories about Tinder…

Or about a friend of a friend who met nothing but losers on dating apps…

Or simply are intimidated by the prospect of talking to a man online and then meeting him face to face.

Whatever your hangups about dating apps and sites, I want to help you navigate the world of online dating without fear for your safety.

The Lowdown on Online Dating and Dating Apps

In general, dating apps and sites are perfectly safe, though of course there are exceptions (PLEASE don’t Google them. They will freak you out). They are just another channel to connect single people, just like a bar or a singles group.

The key is to be conscious of what you’re doing, both when you text a new guy and when you meet him in person. After all, you don’t know this man! Put your safety first!

At the start, you may feel like a fish out of water, but after talking to or even dating a few men you meet on dating apps, you’ll learn to look for certain signs that tell you that the dude is a good one.

Why You Should Consider Online Dating

A lot of women in their 40s or older find it harder to meet a man at this point in their lives. In college, men were everywhere. Now you may only interact with men at work (and you’re not going there) or in line waiting for your coffee. You feel like all the good ones are already taken.

If meeting a man the natural way is a challenge, you absolutely should try online dating…though realize that it’s just ONE tool in your toolkit for finding love. Yes, try online dating, but also go to singles events…ask your friends to set you up…do it all!

After all…what have you got to lose?

Is Online Dating Safe? It Is if You Follow These Safety Tips

Online dating can be really wonderful…if you keep safety tips in mind.

Your safety should be a priority. I don’t care how hot a man’s photos are online. He may not even be that guy (that’s essentially what catfishing is: someone posting photos that aren’t him and then lying about who he is). You have to go into online dating with a bit of skepticism, if only to ensure that you don’t end up with a bad — or even dangerous — guy.

I’m not trying to scare you, but I don’t want you to be naive in thinking that every man you meet through dating apps will be honest. So to answer the question, is online dating safe: it absolutely is…when you take certain precautions.

1. Stick to Quality Sites

Not all dating sites are created equal. Some put more focus on keeping you safe. Bumble, Tinder, Match, eHarmony, and a handful of others are reputable sites, and many have measures to prevent catfishing, though they’re not always foolproof. I’ve heard from many women I’ve coached that these sites tend to have higher-quality men, probably because they charge for their services.

Free sites like Badoo and Zoosk have a much higher instance of fake profiles. Don’t waste your time.

2. Learn the Signs of a Catfisher

via GIPHY

It’s crazy: more than half of online daters have seen dating profiles where they think the person lied about one thing or another. Sometimes these are small lies, like their age or height, but sometimes they are full-blown catfishing. They may steal someone else’s photo or completely make up a persona. Why? There are different theories. Sometimes catfishers are bored or lonely. Sometimes they’re too insecure to date as themselves and so they pretend to be someone else. Look for these signs that you might be the victim of catfishing.

He’s quick to be affectionate, though may not ask many questions about you. He texts several times a day and always asks how you are. He makes you feel good because, hey, this guy really likes you! And yet…he really hasn’t bothered to find anything out about your personality or history. I’m not saying a good man can’t fall for you quickly, but just go slowly until you meet him and get to know him.

He’s got his whole backstory down pat, and there’s usually some trauma there. I know a woman who talked to a man who, in the first five texts, told her that both his parents had died when he was little. I mean, it might be true, but is that really something you’d come out with so early in the game? In this case, he was looking for her sympathy to hook her.

He wants to get off the dating app and get your number. Probably because if you realize he’s catfishing you, you’ll report his profile!

He can’t talk on the phone. Naturally, if you’re dating someone, you want to talk to them. But this man always has an excuse. He can’t talk at work. His battery is dying. He’s at his mom’s house. After a few excuses, realize there’s something more going on.

He drags his feet to meet you. He’s all about texting you 24/7, but even after a few weeks, he’s not asking you out. Then you ask him out…and it’s one excuse after another. A lot of times, catfishers will claim to be deployed overseas, which makes it convenient, since they can’t meet for coffee.

He doesn’t have photos of his face on his profile. I advise women to never, ever start chatting with a man who won’t show his photos on his dating profile. He’s hiding something. Either he’s not who he says he is, or he’s married and doesn’t want to be caught.

3. Learn How to Reverse Image Search

Here’s a tricky little tool to see if you can find more photos of this guy to make sure he is who he says he is. Right click his photo on a dating site or screenshot it. On Google.com, click the camera icon in the search bar and upload the photo from his profile. If he’s used that photo anywhere else, it will appear in search results. You might find his Facebook page or other dating profile.

You’re looking to make sure that his image is on profiles with the name he’s given you! I know a woman who did this from a dating app for a man who said he was named Stefano, Italian, living in California. The search revealed that he was not Italian, his name was Pete, and he lived in Ohio! The guy didn’t even know that someone had stolen his photo to use on dating sites as a catfish. This trick can reveal a lot!

4. Do a Little Investigating

Is online dating safe? It is if you’re a super sleuth!

Is online dating safe? The more you know, the safer it is. I’m not saying you have to go all stalker on the guy, but Google his name and see what comes up. If there’s a warrant out for his arrest, block him!

Just be careful: it’s easy to get pulled down the rabbit hole here. You Google him and he turns out to be legit…so you start clicking on links and social profiles. In 10 minutes, you know far more about this guy than he’s actually told you. This can be a problem if you mention his recent sailboat race win…and he asks how in the heck you knew about it. Awkward….

5. Take Your Time Before Agreeing to a First Date

There’s not a lot to be gained by agreeing to go out with a man you’re chatting with through a dating app within a day or two of virtually meeting, and the more time you take before you meet, the more you can get to know him and be assured that he won’t chop you in a thousand pieces on that date. I kid!…mostly.

If he’s genuinely interested in you (and not just looking for a hookup), he’ll be patient and agree to wait to meet. If he asks within the first few minutes of texting whether you want to meet…and it’s 9 pm…he’s probably just looking for one thing.

You need to be comfortable with this man before meeting him. Talking just builds the relationship, so talk for several days or even weeks before you meet him.

6. Talk on the Phone Before a Date

I can’t really explain why talking on the phone can give you reassurance that he’s not a creep…but it’s true. In this era of texting, it takes a little commitment to agree to actually talk on the phone, so if he agrees (or even suggests it), it’s a good sign that he’s really interested in you.

Also, it’s hard to get to know someone via text. Even if you voice-to-text it, you have a delay between your question and his response. A phone conversation allows you to dive deeper into those getting-to-know-you questions and lets you see what kind of chemistry you have in conversation.

And I guess if he sounds like a complete weirdo…you can then block him and not worry about it.

Another of my female coaching clients moved from the dating app to a phone call, and the man sounded like he’d drunk 10 cups of coffee (or was on speed). Within five minutes, he told her he’d been diagnosed with mania…then asked her to meet up that night. She found an excuse to get off the phone…and blocked him.

7. When You Do Meet, Make it a Public Place

A coffee date is the perfect way to meet a guy for the first time.

“Come over to my house, baby,” he purrs, “I’ll cook you dinner.”

As sexy as a man who cooks is…you don’t need to accept this invitation for the first time you meet someone. The man should understand your need to feel safe. Choose a restaurant or bar. Make it a place you’re familiar with. Park under a street light if it’s night time.

DON’T meet at his house or anywhere remote. And if he tries to bully you into doing it, realize that this guy does not have good intentions!

8. Tell Your Friend Where You’re Going

Is online dating safe?  The jury’s still out, but if you take precautions like telling a friend where you’re meeting this guy, you pretty much eliminate most of the risk.

Let one or more friends know where you’ll be, and at what time. You may even tell them to text you to check in…or ask them to send a fake emergency text if things aren’t going well!

I know some women who even download an app that will keep up with the location of their friend’s phone in case something goes wrong. You can’t be too cautious!

9. Read His Profile Carefully

Not all men fill out their online dating profiles thoroughly, but many do. Keep an eye out for any red flags you might otherwise miss if you focus on his handsome photos:

“Just want a hookup”

“In a polyamorous relationship” 

“H/U only”

“The wife and I are looking for a third!”

You probably want to move on from these profiles (though, you might not. No judgment!). It pays to read!

10. Plan for the Date to be Short

“Look at the time! I’ve got to go!”

Meeting for coffee is a great first date, and should only last an hour or two. If you’re uncomfortable or don’t like the guy, you can make an excuse to leave. If you do have a good time, extend the date to dinner!

You could even tell him before the date that you have an appointment a couple of hours after the date. If you feel bad about lying, make plans with a friend to do a post-date dish so you actually do have plans. And even if the date goes well, being slightly unavailable will make him want you more!

11. Ask the Right Questions

It may seem silly, but even asking “have you ever been married” can lead to some interesting answers. Some men (certainly not all) will be completely open. They may even admit that they’re married…in which case you have the chance to get out before you get involved in a bad situation.

Scary but true: at least 30% of Tinder users are married! Some will openly admit it in their profiles (and some women are even into being the mistress). Others may admit it once they meet you, hoping you’ll understand. Still others will try to keep it under wraps permanently, so put on your Super Sleuth hat and do some investigating if you’re concerned that he might be keeping something from you.

And asking what he’s looking for before you meet can help you find out if he’s just looking for a hookup so you don’t waste your time.

12. Use Photos You Don’t Use Anywhere Else

Just like you can do that reverse image search on him, so can he do it on your photos. If your dating profile pics are the same ones you use on social media, he can easily find out a lot of information about you. Not cool.

Use a photo that you haven’t used anywhere online to keep your data safe.

13. Don’t Let Him Pick You Up on the First Date

You have no idea if you’re going to want to go on a second date, so why would you let this guy know where you live before you’ve met him? Even if he’s trying to be chivalrous, tell him that you’ll meet him at the venue. That way you aren’t relying on him for a ride home if you’re ready to go home…and you know you’ll get home safely.

14. Trust Your Gut

If he gives you the creeps by telling you he loves you after texting you for two days…block him.

If you meet him and he can’t stop staring at your breasts…run away.

If he asks for money…report him on the dating app.

(That’s a thing, by the way. All dating apps have an option to report and/or block a guy. You can specify that he’s not who he says he is, that he’s being vulgar or inappropriate, etc. Use that feature so that other women don’t end up being annoyed by the same man!)

Your instinct will tell you if you’re talking to a man who is not worthy of you. Listen to it. Even if your first online dating experience isn’t what you hoped for — whether you didn’t click or he turned out to be an utter d-bag — realize that the more effort you put into dating online, the better the results you’ll get. And I promise: there are some really great guys on dating apps! You’ll find one!

After all, 8% of people who are married or in serious relationships met online, and that number is growing every day!

Conclusion:

You can have a lot of fun on dating apps if you let yourself!

If you’re serious about meeting Mr. Right, you greatly increase your odds of meeting him sooner by doing everything you can to meet more single men. Commit to it like a part-time job. Sign up for meetups (if nothing else, you’ll meet other people who understand what it’s like to be out there dating). Go to bars and restaurants with friends. Go to parties where you don’t know everyone. See who your friends know.

And yes, try online dating.

It may be scary at first. After all, the last time you were single, dating apps didn’t exist. Your only option was meeting someone in person. But look at dating apps as a benefit: they can connect you to really cool people you wouldn’t otherwise run into.

Talk to me. Have you tried dating apps? Do you have any success stories…or laughable moments? Share them in the comments below!

Flirting will be your #1 secret weapon in the world of online dating. Sign up for my exclusive Flirting Workshop to from Meet Positives SM Feed 3 https://sexyconfidence.com/is-online-dating-safe/ via IFTTT